The Need to Feel Again
by NeonicPoizon
Summary: Beth and Daryl find out that they have more in common than they knew. Confiding in each other, they end up friends. Maybe even more... Beth/Daryl Fic. Rated T for now, but may be changed to M in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

After four dreadful hours, he realized that sleep wasn't going to come. He could close his eyes, count sheep, do whatever to get comfortable; but sleep just wouldn't come. Restless, he decided to give up. He swung his feet over the edge of the bed and stood up, flinching as the soles of his feet met with the cold concrete. Grabbing his vest, he sauntered out of his cell and walked down the catwalk. He made his way down the metal steps leading to the first level as quietly as he could.

"Cold as tits in 'ere," He whispered to himself.

Daryl walked over to the gate leading out of the prison block and grabbed one of the metal bars. He shook it and cursed inwardly.

"Locked," He mumbled under his breath.

"Rick locks it every night before bed," Said a nearby voice.

Daryl involuntarily gasped, caught off guard by the sudden noise. He looked around for the source of the sound, but it was no use. All of the lights had been turned off, and he could barely see a foot in front of him.

"Damn, you 'bout near gave me a heart attack, girl."

"Sorry," Replied the voice.

"Yeah, whatever."

Daryl turned around and began walking towards the steps leading to the second level, but was interrupted by the girl asking him to wait just as he made it to the bottom of the metal stairs. He was a little annoyed, but did as she asked. He could hear soft footsteps approaching him from behind. He quickly put his vest on, suddenly feeling self-conscious about the scars on his back even though it would have been impossible for anybody to see them in such darkness. The footsteps stopped, and Daryl turned around to see who it was that had been creeping around in the shadows.

"Hey," Beth said, giving him a sheepish smile.

"Whattaya want?"

Beth noted that there was a hint of annoyance in his voice. It was difficult to make out, but she was pretty sure that his expression also looked a little frustrated.

"Nothin'. I was just having a hard time falling asleep."

Daryl grunted, sitting down on the second metal step.

"Yeah, me too."

Beth sat down on the ground with her legs crossed. She placed an elbow on either knee and propped her head up on her hands. Daryl leaned back on the stairs and studied her. He was curious as to what she had been doing out here, all alone in the dark. He wondered if maybe Rick had told her to keep watch. The thought made him feel a little nervous. If so, he had just been caught trying to leave.

"What were you doing?" Beth asked. She didn't sound suspicious, but generally curious as to what his motives were for wanting to leave.

"I could ask you the same," Daryl replied.

Beth frowned. She suddenly felt a little uneasy. Daryl could tell that she didn't want to answer him, but he continued to wait for an answer anyway. "Nightmares" was the only thing that she said. An awkward silence ensued for a while after that.

Beth stood up and asked if Daryl would mind if she sat next to him.

"Guess so."

"Thanks."

Daryl scoot over and made room for her on the step he had been sitting on. Beth made her way over to the staircase and sat down next to him, leaving barely any space between them.

"So what about you?"

Daryl looked over at her, able to make out her features now that she had come closer.

"Aren't you that Greene girl?" He deflected, "Maggie's lil' sister?"

Beth nodded. Daryl bluntly asked her what her name was.

"Beth. Now stop changing the subject," She added, her lips slightly curling up at the corners.

Daryl smirked.

"I ain't doin' nothin' wrong," He cautiously replied, "Jus' wanted to go for a walk. Need ta get the hell outta that cell."

Beth nodded, understanding exactly how he felt. She sometimes thought that she would go crazy if she stayed in that cell for more than a few hours. There was also a terrifying feeling that somebody would lock her in it while she was sleeping. That was why she had spent most of her nights in the prison downstairs. The concrete floor wasn't very comfortable to sleep on, but it was better than risking somebody leaving her in an abandoned prison cell during the zombie apocalypse so that she could starve to death.

"I know where Rick keeps the keys," Beth replied without thinking.

Daryl's expression lit up.

"Really?"

"Mhmm."

"Where at?"

Beth opened her mouth to answer him, but closed it again before saying anything.

"Well?" Daryl urged, "What's the matter?"

"I'll tell you where they are, but only on one condition."

Daryl groaned.

"What?" He asked.

"You're going outside, right?"

"Yeah…"

"I wanna go with you."

::::::::::

Beth gasped at the sight of the beautiful, clear sky. She drank in the beauty of the stars, too intoxicated by the twinkling lights to realize that Daryl had begun talking to her. It took a rather forceful punch in the shoulder for him to gain her attention. After almost falling on the ground due to his attack, she looked over and glared at him. He smirked.

"What was that for?" She asked.

"You weren't listening to me."

She rubbed her arm just below her shoulder. It felt like a bruise had already started to form.

"Maybe you oughta listen," Daryl replied, trying to hide the amusement in his voice.

Beth didn't reply. Daryl walked past her and grabbed the gate leading into the courtyard. He yanked it open and walked outside without looking back to see if she had followed him. Assuming that she had, he continued to talk. Beth watched him walk she realized that he had begun talking, she quickly grabbed the gate and opened it, running after him in an attempt to make sure that he didn't hit her again for not listening to what he was saying. The gate slammed shut behind her.

"Anyways," Daryl finished, "I'm gonna go for a walk around the perimeter. You can come with me, or not. I don' really care either way. Just don' get yerself eaten."

He looked back at Beth, who nodded in reply.

"You don't talk much, do ya?"

Beth shrugged. Daryl rolled his eyes. He turned around and began walking towards the fence. Beth contemplated whether or not she should follow him. After all, she didn't know Daryl very well, and he wasn't currently making a very good impression on her. In fact, Beth thought he was pretty mean; judgmental, abusive, and rather egotistical. It wasn't the type of person she would usually hang out with.

She decided not to follow him. After all, she had been stuck inside of that prison under supervision so long that it felt nice to finally have some freedom. That is, until she surveyed the area.

The courtyard was completely empty except for a few picnic tables and a basketball hoop. It was dark outside. The only light provided was that emanating off of the moon, which cast intimidating shadows everywhere. And, as if the imaginary monsters Beth kept seeing in every corner weren't bad enough, there were also the walkers lurking noisily just outside of the prison fence. Altogether, it was a scene that any normal seventeen-year-old girl would have been terrified of when left alone in. Beth was no exception. She ran after Daryl and decided not to leave his side for the rest of the night.

When Daryl heard her running towards him, he chuckled inwardly. Beth didn't notice. She did, however, notice him pull a small rectangular object from the right breast pocket on his jacket. He opened it up and plucked out a small white stick. When he put the end of it into his mouth, she realized that it was a cigarette.

Daryl saw her eyeballing him out of the corner of his eye and held out the cigarette box, offering her one. She stared at it curiously, and then looked up at Daryl with a confused expression.

"Ya want one?" He carelessly asked.

"I'm only seventeen."

"You're right," He replied with a hint of sarcasm, "Wouldn't want no police hasslin' me about solicitin' ta minors."

Beth giggled.

"No thank you," She said.

"Suit yerself."

Daryl stuffed the cigarette box back into his pocket. He reached deeper into the same pocket and pulled out a match. He crouched down and struck the little stick against the ground, igniting a tiny flame on the end of it. Beth watched as he put the flame up to the end of the cigarette in his mouth. The cigarette began to burn, and Daryl tossed the little wooden match onto the ground. He stood up and made to step on it, but withdrew his foot after remembering that he hadn't put his boots on.

He told Beth to step on it. A bit annoyed by his controlling demeanor, she reluctantly stepped on the match. Daryl nodded his head in approval, then turned away from the young blonde and walked off. Beth followed him, but at a distance. She made sure to keep at least five feet behind him until they made their way over to a door leading into one of the watch towers. Daryl opened the door and gestured for her to go first. She hesitantly walked past him and into the building. Hearing the door shut behind her, she looked back to make sure that Daryl had followed her inside. He did.

Beth turned back towards the staircase leading up the center of the tower. She carefully climbed up the steps. Once she was in the small room at the top of the tower, she began to feel a little uneasy. Daryl had made his way into the room, and there wasn't much space between them. She didn't like it.

"So, you get nightmares often?"

Beth flinched, surprised at how forward the question was.

"Yes," She whispered in reply.

There was something in her expression that told Daryl that he shouldn't pry too much. He sort of felt bad for her.

"Me too." He said.

Beth looked up, surprised. She was expecting him to continue talking, but he just walked past her and out onto the guard tower balcony. She followed him out.

Daryl leaned over the guard rail and took his cigarette out of his mouth for a brief moment. He exhaled, and a large cloud of smoke escaped between his lips. He put the cigarette back in his mouth and glanced over at Beth. She was staring at him.

"What the hell you lookin' at?"

Beth diverted her gaze. Daryl noticed that a medium-sized bruise had formed on her arm. He realized that it was from him hitting her earlier. Returning his attention to Beth's face, he realized that she was crying.

_What the hell?_

"Hey," He reached over to put his hand on her back in an attempt to comfort her.

Beth saw him raise his arm out of the corner of her eye and immediately flinched away, thinking that he was going to hit her again. Daryl dropped his arm and just stared at her. He frowned.

"I…I wasn't gon' hit ya," Daryl replied remorsefully, "I was jus' trying to get yer attention."

Beth just stared at him.

"What ya cryin' for?"

"I ain't crying," She replied, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

Daryl looked at her skeptically, but didn't argue. Beth was thankful for that. She watched as Daryl returned to the position he had been in; leaning over the guard rail, peering out into the darkness of the courtyard. He let the cigarette fall out of his mouth and watched as it hit the ground far below them. Unexpectedly, he started to talk again.

"It's so fucking cold out here."

"Cold in the prison, too." Beth replied.

Daryl looked over at her, surprised that she was talking to him. He couldn't help but notice the bruise on her arm again.

"Sorry I hit you," He said. Beth looked up at him and gave a lopsided smile.

"It's fine."

"Naw, I shouldn'ta hit no teenage girl so hard. I won't do it again."

Beth nodded in approval. She leaned over the guard rail just like Daryl had been. She saw something move out of the corner of her eye, and glanced over in the direction of the movement. She was relieved to find that it was just a walker, lurking around in one of the prison fields nearby. It was limping, and one of its arms was missing.

"So," Daryl continued, "I heard ya singin' the other day."

Beth turned around to face him again. She studied him closely, but it was hard to tell what he was thinking about. Most of his features were hidden in the shadow cast off of the guard tower.

"You sing real nice." He continued.

Daryl gave her a lopsided smile of his own. Beth's cheeks turned a soft shade of red.

"What was it called?" Daryl asked out of nowhere.

"What was what called?"

"The song."

"Oh. It was "Hold on" by Tom Waits."

Daryl nodded. He wasn't one for small talk, but he didn't know what else to say. He'd never been in a situation like this before. Beth could tell that he was struggling to pick up a conversation, so decided to help him out.

"Y'know," She began, "I really do miss the stars sometimes."

Daryl cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow. He waited for her to continue talking.

"Before any of this happened," Beth continued, "I used to go outside every night and just stare at the sky. The endless number of stars used to reassure me that there was more to life than just…y'know. But then there were walkers everywhere, and my dad never let me leave the house at night. I mean, sure, I could still gaze at the night sky through my window…But it just isn't the same.

"Well," Daryl gestured around them, "Here ya go."

Beth stood up and took a step back from the guard rail. She looked somber, her expression being one of much sorrow. This caught Daryl off guard.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"Just ain't the same," Beth replied. She looked up at him and shrugged, "Y'know, you never truly understand until you've been in the middle of nowhere- away from all of the buildings, lights, cars, and everything- and gaze up into the night sky. It's truly mesmerizing."

"Oh," Daryl looked a little put-down.

"I appreciate you bringing me out here, though, Daryl. It was nice to get away from everything for a while."

Beth smiled. She looked up at the sky and yawned. Daryl watched as she hugged herself in an attempt to stay warm.

"Ready to go in?" He asked.

"Yes, please."


	2. Chapter 2

Beth woke up the next day around noon, sprawled out on the cot above Daryl's. She had explained to Daryl her fears of being locked in one of the cells the night before, and he had offered to let her share his cell with him. Beth eagerly agreed. She didn't know why, but the thought of having somebody nearby made her feel a bit more at ease.

"Well…'bout time ya woke up."

Beth looked over at Daryl, who was leaning against the wall opposite of the cots. He had a plate in his hand, eating something off of it that looked like charred road kill. The smell of burnt squirrel made her stomach growl, and she suddenly realized that it had been almost twenty-four hours since she had last eaten anything.

"Hungry?" Daryl asked, holding the plate out.

Beth gave the cooked rodent on his plate a look of pure disgust. Daryl couldn't help but laugh at her expression.

"Carol's cookin' up some fish the guys caught yesterday."

She didn't say anything, but Daryl could tell that she was quite relieved to hear so.

"You best get in the kitchen before they eat it all," He replied.

Beth sat up and stretched her arms out, yawning. She nodded in agreement with him, then jumped off of the cot and walked out of the cell. Daryl watched her walk away, chewing on a piece of his squirrel. He couldn't help but wonder why she would pass up something so delicious.

"Hey Carol," Beth said as she walked into the kitchen.

Carol looked up from the stove to meet gazes with Beth. She was smiling sweetly, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear before leaning over the stove to admire the thick pieces of carp that were slowly cooking in a skillet. She wasn't particularly fond of carp, but assumed that it would taste better than squirrel.

"Hello, Beth," Carol responded rather cheerfully, "You hungry?"

Beth nodded. The fish looked delicious.

"It'll be done in a minute. Go ahead and have a seat," Carol replied, pointing her chin towards the metal picnic tables a few feet away.

Beth did as she asked, sitting down at the table closest to the grill. She waited patiently. Carol soon rewarded her with a large chunk of fish.

"Thank you," Beth said.

"Of course."

Beth folded her hands and proceeded to pray. Carol heard her thank God for the food, and then watched as she unfolded her hands and began to eat. She did so as if she hadn't eaten for weeks, finishing the plate of fish in a little under five minutes. She regretted doing so when all of the food was gone.

"Hey, Beth."

Beth looked up to find that it was Glenn who was speaking. He sat down on the opposite side of the table that Beth was sitting at and yawned, politely asking Carol if he could have whatever it was that she was cooking. Carol happily obliged, tossing another large piece of fish onto the stove.

"So," Glenn continued, "What's up? Maggie's been looking all over for you. "

"Really?" Beth looked a bit surprised.

"Yeah. Wherehaveyou been all morning?"

"I just-"

Beth started to answer him, but stopped herself. She knew that Glenn would take it the wrong way if she told him that she had slept in Daryl's cell. He would probably assume that she and Daryl had done more than just sleep. The thought of such an assumption made her cheeks burn. She could only hope that Glenn didn't notice.

"Just been wanderin' around," Beth said finally.

"Oh. Okay, just wondered. You oghtta go let Maggie know you're okay…When you get the chance."

Beth nodded in agreement. She stood up from the table and grabbed her plate, tossing it into the large kitchen sink before leaving the room. She quickly made her way into the area containing all of the cells. She climbed up the stairs, walked down the metal catwalk, and stopped in the doorway of the cell that Maggie usually resided in. Maggie was lying on the bottom cot, reading a book. Upon further examination, Beth realized that it was an old dictionary. She couldn't help but wonder why her older sister would be interested in reading the dictionary.

"Hey there."

Maggie looked up from her book and smiled. She looked relieved.

"Hey there. Where you been all mornin', Beth?"

"Just wandering around. I'm bored."

Maggie set the dictionary down and sat up. She slipped her feet into a grimy pair of sneakers and stood up.

"Ya wanna go get somethin' to eat?"

"No thanks," Beth shook her head, "Just ate. You go on ahead, though."

"Okay. Seeya later, sis."

Beth stepped aside so that Maggie could walk past her. She watched as her older sister made her way down the catwalk, turn, and then climb down the stairs. Maggie disappeared into the dining area, and Beth was left all alone on the second level of the prison block.

"Whatcha doin'?"

Well, she thought she was alone.

She turned around to find Daryl walking up to her from behind. He was wearing his usual outfit; sleeveless shirt, leather vest, and jeans torn at the knees. There was a heavy-duty crossbow hanging off of his back.

"Nothing, really."

"You plan on sleepin' in my room for now on?"

The question caught Beth off guard. She was surprised by Daryl's ability to be so blunt about things.

"I…I dunno. I…Well…"

She wasn't sure what to say.

"Jus' sayin' I don't mind," Daryl replied, "But if you're not gonna, then get yer shit outta my room."

The sudden hostility in his voice was all that it took to send her over the edge. She had been stuck in a prison for what seemed like years, her life threatened by walkers, and her sleep filled with gruesome nightmares every night. Now Daryl was going to walk over and act like an asshole for no reason? No.

"You know what, Dixon?" Beth asked, the rush of anger giving her enough courage to finally stand up to him.

Daryl flinched in surprise at the pure hostility in her tone.

"You're an ass. You're a big, mean, abusive, egotistical redneck!"

Her voice started to slowly rise until she was shouting at him. This, of course, gained Rick's attention. It was fortunate that Rick and Judith were the only others in the cell block, or everybody else would have heard the confrontation. Beth didn't care, though. All she was interested in was putting Daryl in his rightful place.

"Hey-" Daryl started, but was interrupted by the continuation of Beth's reprimand.

"Shut up! I ain't done yet, Daryl," She yelled, jabbing her index finger into his chest," You think you're better'n everybody else here, and I don't like it! You're nice to me one minute, and then the next minute your yelling at me for no reason at all? Well you can just go-"

"You on yer period or somethin'?"

It was on that note that Beth lost all control of her body functions. Her hand involuntarily curled into a fist, and she found herself hitting him square in the face. She wasn't a very strong person, but she sure did hit hard.

Daryl stumbled backwards and fell, cupping his nose in his left hand. Blood driveled from underneath his palm, and leaked off his chin. The collar of his shirt was tainted with a dark crimson color.

"Hey,Hey," Rick yelled as he made his way to the scene.

The leader of their group was surprised to find Daryl on the ground with a bloody nose. He was staring at Beth as if she had three heads; completely awestruck by her sudden strength. Beth's hand was spattered with blood, revealing that she was to blame for Daryl's injuries. Rick was confused.

"What the hell's goin' on up here?" Rick demanded, holding Beth's bloodied arm up accusingly.

Beth jerked her arm out of his grasp and stomped off, evidently pissed off about something. Rick's gaze wandered toward Daryl. He raised an eyebrow in speculation, wondering what it was that Daryl had done.

"What you lookin' at?" Daryl snapped.

"Whad'ya do, Daryl?"

"I ain't done nothin' to the lil' bitch. She just hauled off an-"

Rick held up a hand, cutting Daryl off.

"First of all," He warned, "Watch yer mouth. Second of all, you ought to have done _something_ to piss her off like that. Beth barely talks, let alone get angry, start yellin' and punch somebody."

Daryl mumbled something inaudible to Rick.

"What's that?" Rick asked, taking a step towards Daryl. Daryl let go of his nose, knowing that no amount of pressure could stop the bleeding. He'd have to wait for it to stop on its own.

"I…I may have asked her… if it was her time of the month."

Rick's eyes widened in utter disbelief.

"_You did what!?"_


	3. Chapter 3

The next day was nothing but awkward for Daryl. Everybody kept asking him what had happened to his nose. He kept telling them that he fell off the bed in his sleep and busted it on the ground. He wasn't sure why he felt so reluctant to tell the truth. But he did.

To make things even more awkward, Rick kept shooting him glares from across the room. It was as if he was actually blaming him for what happened. In fact, Daryl was pretty sure that this actually was the case. But of course Rick would take Beth's side. She was but an innocent little seventeen-year-old. Daryl, on the other hand, was a relative of Merle's with a troubled past. Not to mention that he was twelve years older than Beth, and shouldn't have been so rude towards her.

Daryl rolled his eyes at the thought. What the hell did it matter?

"Hey," Rick said, materializing on his right side. He sat down next to him on the metal picnic bench located in the middle of the dining area.

Daryl didn't verbally answer him, but responded by glaring at him. Rick sighed.

"Daryl, you oughtta know better. Look, I'm pissed, but-"

"Oh really?" Daryl chimed in as sarcastically as possible, "I hadn't noticed."

"_Daryl._ Would you please just hear me out?"

"Whatever."

"Look, I know it's been tough lately. I understand that you've had a hard time lately because of Merle-"

"This ain't got nothin' ta do with my brother!" Daryl exclaimed.

He jumped out of his seat and glowered down at Rick. Rick just sat there, patiently waiting for his friend to calm down. Daryl looked around at everybody. They were all staring in his direction due to the sudden outburst. He suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of humiliation. Taking a deep breath, he sat back down next to Rick.

"I'm just saying," Rick continued, "Beth's had it hard, too. She's a teenage girl tossed into a group of unfamiliar people during an uprising of unholy creatures who make meals out of the living."

"I know," Daryl said.

"Try to put yerself in her place."

"Don't mean the lil' bi-" He stopped midsentence and corrected himself, "The lil' brat ain't got no right ta hit me."

Rick let out a long, heavy sigh. Daryl could tell that he was slowly becoming impatient with him.

"You can't insinuate that a girl's being moody because of her period and seriously expect _not_ to get hit?"

"Didn't think she had it in 'er," Daryl replied.

"That ain't an excuse, Daryl. You need to apologize to Beth," He added, "And hope that she doesn't already hate you enough to deny you forgiveness."

"I don't give a damn whether or not the lil' bitch forgives me!"

Rick tensed, visibly irritated by Daryl's use of that word again.

"You will apologize to her," Rick rested his elbow on the table and jabbed a finger at him, "Or else."

Daryl wondered what it was that Rick meant by 'or else.' He wondered what Rick would do if he refused to apologize. Would he hit him? Unlikely. Rick wasn't a big fan of abusive behavior. He could kick him out, but he wouldn't. Daryl was of too much importance for Rick to kick him out. Rick did have enough authority to punish him, though. And the man probably wouldn't hesitate to force him to sleep outside of the cell block, or take away his meal privileges.

"Fine, I'll talk to the girl."

"No," Rick corrected, "You will _apologize_ to her."

Daryl inwardly rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, whatever. I'll apologize. Dunno what for, but I'll do it. But just 'cus you asked me, Rick."

Rick stood up from his seat and looked down a Daryl, studying him.

"I'm serious. You best tell Beth yer sorry by tomorrow. And I _will _ask her whether you did or not."

Daryl nodded in agreement, and Rick walked off to do something else. Everybody had stopped staring by then, and Daryl was left once more with his own thoughts. It wasn't a very pleasant place to be.

::::::::::::

Daryl busied himself with the chore of cleaning his new crossbow. He was using a dark green rag to wipe away all of the blood, sweat, and mud that had accumulated on it. When he finished with the bow, he carefully placed it on the ground. He then proceeded to pull the arrows out of the sheath. One by one, he rid all of the long, thin rods of any dirt or blood. Then he placed them back into the sheath connected to the crossbow, lifted the crossbow up, and slung it over his shoulder. He walked upstairs and put it in his room, then walked downstairs to retrieve the bucket of dirty water he had been using. It was surprising to find that Beth was already taking care of it.

The two of them glanced at each other and locked gazes for a brief moment. Beth dropped the bucket back onto the ground and diverted her gaze elsewhere. Daryl continued to stare at her, unsure of what to say.

"You still using this?" Beth asked, acting as if she were observing something on a nearby wall so that she wouldn't have to look at him.

"No."

"I'll take care of it," She replied in a voice barely above a whisper. She had returned to her usual shy, quiet demeanor.

" 'Kay. Whatever."

Daryl imagined Rick, urging him to apologize. He pushed the image away, still too angry to say anything without offending the young girl even more. It would be best for Daryl to ignore Beth's existence until his stubborn personality allowed him to calm down and think rationally.

Beth grabbed the bucket handle and picked the bucket up again. Without another word, she turned the other way and walked off. Daryl just stood there, watching her disappear into the dining area beyond the cell block gate.

::::::::::::

It was much later that night that Daryl had heard the crying. He had just woken from a somewhat gruesome nightmare entailing the details of his discovery of Merle's corpse chewing on the body of a young Woodbury soldier. At first he couldn't hear anything other than his own rapid breathing combined with the incredibly fast beat of his heart. He could feel the sweat forming on his brow, and the cold air enveloping him as he sat up. It took a while for him to calm down. When he finally had managed to regain his bearings, he heard it.

A small whimpering noise was coming from a nearby cell. Curious, Daryl swung his feet over the edge of the bed and stood up. He sauntered out of his cell and made his way down to another. He looked inside, but couldn't make out anything other than a petite lump lying curled into the fetal position on the bottom cot. Listening closely, he could just barely make out Beth's voice; the young girl mumbling pleads of mercy in her sleep. She was having another nightmare.

Daryl knew all-too-well how terrible nightmares could all, he had just woke up from one. Even though he was still mad at the young girl, he wouldn't dare stand by idly while her unconsciousness forced her to endure something so dreadful.

"Psst! Hey," He whispered loudly, "Wake up!"

Beth gasped, freed from her morbid dreams. She sat up and turned around to see who it was that had assisted her in doing so. It was dark. The moonlight shining through the prison windows revealed nothing more than a very masculine silhouette in the doorway of her cell. She asked for a name, but he didn't answer. Daryl side-stepped, disappearing behind the wall. He turned to walk back to his cell, and sat down on his cot, contemplating whether or not he wanted to try to get more sleep.

Beth brought her legs up and hugged them, propping her head up on a knee.

"Thanks, Daryl." She whispered, even though she knew that he was too far away to hear.


	4. Chapter 4

Daryl was lying on his cot, wide awake, when Rick came into his cell the next morning. Rick was immediately able to tell that Daryl had gotten absolutely no sleep the night before. Feeling bad for his friend, he asked if he was feeling okay. Daryl just grunted.

"Well," Rick replied, "With the Woodbury people living with us, we're already out of food. I was going to go out on a run, but you can stay here."

Daryl quickly rolled over and sat up.

"No way," He replied, "I'm comin' with ya."

"Daryl," Rick said authoritatively, "I want you here."

Daryl grimaced. Without further argument, he laid back down on his cot and rolled over so that he was facing the wall.

"The hell ya tellin' me 'bout a run for if ya ain't gon' let me go," He mumbled.

Rick turned to leave, but stopped in the doorway. He turned around to face Daryl again, asking if he had managed to apologize to Beth yet. Daryl's silence answered the question.

"Better get to that," Rick replied before turning around once more. Without another word, he left.

::::::::::::

"Daryl," Carol said upon seeing him enter the room.

Daryl turned to face her, and found that she was holding Rick's baby girl. He couldn't help but smile.

"Can I hold Judith?"

"Of course. Be careful," She added as she handed the child over to him.

Daryl carefully took the baby from Carol and cradled her in his arms. He gently rocked her side to side, telling her how beautiful she was. Carol smiled. She absolutely loved it when Daryl was like that; all sensitive and kind. It showed that he wasn't as emotionless as he wanted everybody to think.

"Hey there, lil' asskicker," Daryl whispered, "What ya doin'? Hm?"

Carol laughed. The infant looked up at him, her eyes twinkling. She stared at him in wonder, giving him the biggest smile she could muster. Daryl chuckled. He pulled the baby closer so that he could plant a gentle kiss on her forehead, and then handed her back to Carol. Carol carefully held her in one arm while offering her a bottle with the other.

The baby pushed the offering away with one of her chubby little hands, looking back over at Daryl. Carol followed the infant's gaze.

"Think she likes you," She said, giving Daryl a smile.

"Think so?" He asked, smiling back.

"You do spend a lot of time with her."

Daryl shrugged.

"You'd make a good father," Carol replied without thinking.

Daryl gave her a curious look, and then shook his head.

"Naw, I ain't made out to be no daddy."

"Whatever you say, Daryl."

Carol turned her attention back to Judith, who was still staring at Daryl. Her mouth was open in awe, and she had managed to drool almost all the way down the side of her face. Carol put the baby bottle she had been holding on a nearby table and grabbed a towel. She gently wiped the saliva off of the little girl's face, and looked back up at Daryl. He was looking down at the adorable little infant, giving her a crooked smile.

"You can hold her again, if you like."

Daryl's smile disappeared. He looked up at Carol and shook his head again.

"Naw,I'm s'posed to do somethin' for Rick. Gotta go."

Carol nodded, and Daryl walked past. He brushed his hand against her shoulder for a brief second and told her to be careful.

"You too, Daryl."

Daryl walked into the dining area and looked around for Beth, but she was nowhere to be seen. He wandered through the maze of hallways until finding the boiler room, peeking inside to see if perhaps she had gone in there for some reason. She hadn't. Daryl stepped away from the room and quietly shut the door, looking around while contemplating where to go next. He turned back the way he had came and cursed at himself, feeling stupid for not even considering the possibility that she could be in her cell.

Daryl emerged from the dark hallway leading out of the dining area, looking around. The only other person in the room was Carol, who was still holding the baby at a nearby table. She looked up at him for a brief moment, but then returned her attention to Judith, who was now willing to drink her bottle. She was hugging the small bottle, eagerly sucking on it. Her eyes were half-closed, and she looked as if she were about to fall asleep.

"You seen Beth?" Daryl asked as he walked up to Carol.

She looked up at him again, putting a finger over her mouth to gesture for him to be quiet. Daryl glanced down at the baby and whispered an apology.

"I haven't seen her," She whispered, "Check the cell."

" 'kay," He whispered, "Thanks."

She watched as he sauntered off, making his way through the cell block gate, and into the area containing the cells. He climbed up the stairs and walked down to Beth's cell, but she wasn't there.

"Godammit! Where the hell'd that girl run off to?" He said aloud to himself.

He checked all of the other cells, but she wasn't in any of them, either. With absolutely no idea as to where Beth had gone, he made his way back downstairs. He walked back over to Carol, and- with one last idea- asked her where Carl was.

"Went out with Rick and the others."

"Dammit," Daryl replied.

Carol looked concerned.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothin'."

Daryl sat down next to the older woman and leaned back, letting out an exasperated sigh.

"Daryl," Carol urged, "Something wrong? You know you can tell me anything, right?"

Daryl looked over at her and arched his brow. He couldn't help but wonder why she was always so nice to him, even though he had said some pretty terrible things to her in the past.

"Ain't nothin' wrong, Carol. I'm fine."

She nodded, turning her attention back to Judith. The baby girl had fallen asleep, and the nipple of the bottle was slowly falling out of her mouth. Carol carefully plucked the bottle out of her grasp and stood up. Daryl watched her as she walked over to the crib and gently laid the baby in it. She walked back and sat down next to him again.

"It's just…" Daryl began, "I need to talk to that Greene girl."

"Maggie?"

"Naw, the other one."

"Oh. You mean Beth."

"Yeah."

"Well, what for?" Carol asked, genuinely curious.

" Need ta 'pologize. I was pretty mean to her the other day. An' now Rick's angry at me, an' he told me I'd best apologize to her."

Carol nodded in agreement. She stared down at the floor for a while, looking like she was trying to concentrate on something. She looked back at Daryl after a few minutes of silence had passed.

"Why don't you check outside? Beth doesn't like it much being stuck in here all the time."

Daryl frowned. Why hadn't he thought of that?

He stood up and ran off to find Beth, disappearing into the dark hallway leading out of the area. Carol stood up and walked over to check on Judith one more time. She leaned over the edge of the crib and stared down at the beautiful little infant, smiling. Judith looked so peaceful when she was sleeping. It gave Carol hope that there was still innocence in this world filled with manslaughter and destruction.

:::::::::::::::

Daryl quietly walked down the dark corridor. He took a left at the end, and immediately smacked into somebody. The person who ran into him fell onto the ground, but Daryl just stumbled backwards a little.

"Why don' you watch where yer goin'!" He yelled, dusting himself off.

The attacker stood up and apologized, trying to walk around him in order to avoid another argument. Daryl realized that it was Beth, and quickly grabbed her arm. She panicked, and tried to pull herself free. It didn't work, though. Daryl only tightened his grip on her, causing her to yell.

"Let go! I didn't do anything to you. I'm sorry I ran into you. Just let me go!"

"Would you quit squirmin'! I'm just tryin' to-"

He pulled her closer and she screamed. She was now visibly terrified. Daryl pushed her against the wall and cupped his hand over her mouth. It wasn't the smartest thing to do, but he didn't know how else to shut her up.

Beth tried to kick him, but there wasn't enough space between them for her to hit him hard enough.

"Stop yer' screamin'! You're gonna have everyone thinkin' I'm killin' ya."

Beth just stared at him, wide-eyed.

"Calm down," Daryl replied, "I ain't tryin' ta hurt ya."

Beth's expression softened and Daryl removed his hand from her mouth. She yanked her arm away from him and rubbed it as if he had held onto it hard enough to hurt her. Her breathing slowly calmed, and Daryl took a step back.

"Jesus," Daryl exclaimed, "I grab your arm and ya start screamin' like a banshee. What the hell'd ya think I was gonna do?"

Beth diverted her gaze. She thought of a few different terrible things he could have done, but didn't dare voice them.

"I thought you were gonna hit me," Was all she said. It was barely loud enough for Daryl to hear.

"What?" He asked.

Beth opened her mouth to repeat herself, but Daryl continued talking; his question meant to be rhetorical.

"I told you," He said, "I won't hit you no more."

"That was before I punched you," Beth replied, "I thought you were tryin' to get back at me."

Daryl stared at her, a little hurt by the assumption. There was a moment of silence between them, and then Beth finally spoke up.

"Did you need something?"

Daryl sighed.

"Look," He replied, "Rick wants me to apologize. I don't know why…"

"You were acting like a jerk!"

"You _punched_ me in in the _face_!"

"I wouldn't have hit you if you wouldn't have said that," Beth said in a hush voice.

"_Anyway_," Daryl continued in an agitated tone, "You hit me. So the score is even. But Rick _still _wants me to 'pologize. I don't see why I ought to, but he asked. So there. I'm sorry. Sorry I hit ya. Sorry I yelled at ya. And sorry for whatever else I musta done wrong."

Beth smiled.

"You're so stubborn," She replied, playfully poking him.

"Whatcha talkin' about?" Daryl asked, confused.

"Why can't you just apologize?"

"I just did!"

"Not like you meant it," She mumbled.

Daryl just stared at her. Her smile disappeared, and she suddenly looked all serious again. Without a single word, she took a step forward and grabbed his shoulder, pulling him closer. Before he knew what was happening, her lips were on his, and she was kissing him. He flung his hands up as if to push her away, but didn't. Instead, he ended up wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning in to kiss her back. Beth replaced her hand on the back of his neck, lifting her other hand up to hold the side of his face.

Daryl knew that he shouldn't have been doing this; he knew that it was wrong. But it felt so nice to have somebody so close to him. It felt nice to have her wrapped around him, against him- touching him. He hadn't been touched in so long. At least, not this intimately. And it felt good. It felt more than good; it felt…like he was alive again.

Beth released him and leaned back, keeping her face but a mere inch away from his. She could feel her heart beating wildly behind her ribcage. By how heavily Daryl was breathing, she could tell that he felt just as excited. It made her cheeks turn a dark red color, and she suddenly had the need to look away, diverting her gaze down the hall. Daryl reluctantly removed his arms from around her waist and took a step back. When Beth looked back up at him, he was smirking.

"Where did _that_ come from?" He asked incredulously.

Beth's cheeks reddened even more.

"Thank you," She replied.

"What for?"

"Last night."


	5. Chapter 5

Daryl and Beth could hear the distant sound of Rick's voice, accompanied by a few others. The group that had gone out in search of supplies earlier must have come back.

"Looks like Rick's back," Daryl said.

Beth nodded. Daryl turned and started walking off without saying anything else. She followed. The two of them made their way down the hall, and turned into another. Beth reached over and tried to grab the man's hand, but he jerked his hand away before she could do so. He stopped mid-stride, and looked over at her with a frustrated expression.

"The hell are you doing?"

"I…I was just trying to hold your hand…"

Daryl grimaced.

"No."

"Why not?" She asked.

Daryl sighed. He wasn't quite sure how to answer that. Sure, he liked Beth. She was cool. She was sweet, and forgiving, and beautiful. Daryl didn't think it was a good idea to get involved with a girl her age, though. There weren't any police around to stop him, but it wasn't a legality issue; it was the morality that mattered. Becoming intimately involved with a girl Beth's age…It was just wrong… _Inappropriate_.

"I don't do that touchy-feely crap," Daryl spat, his voice a little more hostile than he had intended.

Beth looked a bit wounded by his remark, but he didn't care. He walked past her again. Before he could get too far, she voiced another question.

"Why?"

Daryl stopped walking again and turned around to face her. Beth could tell that he was becoming a little annoyed.

Look," Daryl sighed, "I just ain't like that, okay?"

"I know," Beth took a step towards him, "But I'm asking why. Does it make you uncomfortable?"

_A little, _Daryl thought to himself.

"Look Beth. I like you… You're nice. I just…"

Daryl trailed off, searching for the right words to say. Beth had never seen him so flustered before. It was most likely something she would never get a chance to see again.

"Just don't. Okay?"

"Please?" She asked, sounding desperate.

Beth took a step towards him and reached for his hand again. He reluctantly allowed her to grab it, and watched as she pulled it toward herself. His arm was outstretched between them, and it made him feel awkward. Beth didn't seem to notice, though. She was too involved in holding his left hand with her right, caressing his knuckles with her thumb. It sent an unfamiliar sensation up his entire arm, and he could feel the effect in his gut. It felt as if there were butterflies in his stomach.

His heart began beating as rapidly as it had when she had kissed him, and he exhaled, noticing that he had been subconsciously holding his breath. Beth looked up at him and he gazed down into her dark blues eyes. For a moment he thought that she was about to kiss him again, and he tensed. Instead, she started talking, and he felt an overwhelming sense of relief.

"I like to be close to people," She said," I like to hug people, and hold hands, and…kiss. It's…It's how I show my affection towards the people that I like."

"But-"

Beth dropped his arm and took a step towards him so that their bodies were almost touching.

"I like you, Daryl."

She gently placed her hand just above his heart, and Daryl nervously glanced down at her gesture. He wondered if she could feel how rapidly his heart was pounding against his ribcage.

"Do- Do you really want to hold my hand that badly?"

Beth nodded.

"Fine."

He reluctantly held his hand out for her. She smiled and took his offer, rewarded by him gently squeezing her hand. There was another moment of silence between them, and Beth could tell that he was uncomfortable. She wondered how it was possible for such a simple gesture to cause him so much anxiety.

"I'm bad at this kinda stuff." Daryl said as if he could read her thoughts.

He used his free hand to nervously rub the back of his neck. Beth held the hand he had given her in a firm grip and smiled shyly.

"it's nice," She whispered.

"It's _weird_," Daryl corrected.

Beth giggled, tugging him towards her. She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

:::::::::::::::

Daryl removed his grip on Beth's hand as they emerged through the dark corridor and into the kitchen. She didn't complain, knowing that the sight of them being so intimately friendly would probably upset Rick. And, as soon as they entered the kitchen, Rick looked over at them.

"Hey," He said.

He looked at Daryl, glanced over at Beth, and then looked back at Daryl.

"Did you…?"

Daryl nodded, knowing what he was going to say before he had finished the sentence.

"Good." Was all that Rick said.

The former sheriff turned his attention back to a pile of boxes that Beth hadn't noticed before. He and his group of scavengers had brought them in. The young blonde walked over and peered into one. It was filled with canned foods. She examined the box and found that the food was from a nearby grocery store. Looking inside of another box, she saw that there were some more cans. Next to them were a couple of boxes. One was labeled as graham crackers, and the other was labeled as Cheerios.

"Got any strawberries?" Daryl implored, pushing one of the box flaps down so that he could examine the contents.

Rick and Beth simultaneously shot him a look, wondering if he were serious. There was no trace of amusement on his face. Rick turned his attention back to the boxes and rummaged through the largest one's contents.

"Strawberries?" Beth asked.

"Damn straight," Daryl replied with a crooked grin, "You got a problem with that?"

Beth shrugged. She mumbled something under her breath, but he couldn't hear her. He was about to ask what she said when Rick held out two cans toward him. One was the size of an average can and held sliced strawberries. The other was almost twice its size, and its label said that it was filled with strawberry pie filling.

"Sweet."

Daryl took the cans from Rick and thanked him.

"Could you help us unload the boxes?" Rick asked, looking at Daryl.

Daryl nodded, put his strawberry delicacies down, and grabbed one of the boxes. Beth watched as he lifted it up and walked off.

::::::::::::::

Daryl plopped down on his cot and stretched out, exhausted. He yawned obnoxiously, and then closed his eyes for a few brief seconds. Upon hearing somebody step into the doorway, he opened his eyes again. Beth was standing there, awkwardly twiddling her thumbs. She seemed unhappy about something.

"Whatcha want?"

"Nothin'."

This made Daryl suspicious.

"Best tell me what you want, girl."

"I just wanted to say good night."

"Ain't ya stayin' in here?"

"I don't want to bother you."

"Ya ain't gon' bother me. C'mon," He gestured for her to come in. She didn't move.

"It's fine," She replied, "Really. I've got my own place to sleep."

Daryl sat up and let out an annoyed sigh.

"Where? Downstairs on the cold-ass floor? I don' think so. Get yer fuckin' ass in here."

Beth thought about it, but still remained in the doorway. Daryl's lips flattened into a straight line. He straightened his posture and sternly crossed his arms over his chest. Beth suddenly found herself smiling. She gave in and took a step into the cell, making her way over to the cots hanging from the wall.

"You sure do swear a lot."


	6. Chapter 6

Rick jumped from behind a silver truck and held his hand into the air. He was holding a filthy hatchet. Without hesitating, he jammed its dull blade into the head of a nearby walker and watched the creature fall onto the ground. After kicking the creature to make sure that it was dead, Rick looked back at Daryl, who had also been taking cover behind the silver truck. He nodded in reassurance, and Daryl took a step out. The man reflexively drew his crossbow and looked around for more walkers, but there weren't any. Relieved, he dropped his arm and held the crossbow at his side.

Rick continued walking down the street without saying anything. He made his way up to an abandoned convenience store and slowly pushed the door open, cautiously peering inside. After making sure that it was safe inside, he looked back at Daryl and gestured for him to follow. The redneck slung his weapon over his shoulder and did as he was told.

Once Daryl had made his way through the entrance, Rick tucked his hatchet into the waistband of his jeans.

"I'll get what I can," He said, "Cover the door."

Daryl nodded, watching as his older friend walked away. Rick disappeared into an aisle of baby supplies. He emerged from it a few minutes later. He had a bag of diapers under one arm, and was holding three cans of baby formula.

"Damn," Daryl replied, "Is that all they got?"

"Afraid so."

The two of them just stared at each other for a while, and then Rick walked off again. He came back a few minutes later, holding the baby supplies he had salvaged in a large, red grocery basket. Daryl watched as he walked up to the front door and opened it. Rick gestured for him to follow, and he did. They cautiously walked outside. Carefully, they made their way into the street and began heading back in the direction of the prison. Both men stayed quiet most of the way back. When they were a mere mile away from the prison, Rick decided to break the silence.

"I noticed Beth in your cell this mornin'."

Daryl glanced over at him and raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

"Yeah…?"

Rick shrugged.

"Just thought it was odd."

"What's yer point?"

"My point is," He said accusingly, "That she's seventeen, Daryl."

"The hell's that s'posed ta mean?"

Rick looked over at him and held up his hands defensively.

"Don't take it the wrong way," He replied.

Daryl didn't answer. Rick could tell that he was angry, though.

"Look," Rick continued, "I'm just saying it looked a little…suspicious."

"I ain't fucked her, if that's what yer sayin'."

Rick flinched, surprised by how bold the statement was. He wanted to say something, but chose not to. Instead of starting an argument, he diverted his attention elsewhere. Daryl focused on the road ahead, pretending Rick had never said anything.

"Daryl."

"What?"

"I'm not insinuating that you slept with her."

"Sure as hell sounded like you was…"

"I know. Sorry."

Daryl looked over at Rick and sighed.

"Look," He explained, "She just don't like sleepin' alone."

"Then she ought to sleep with somebody else. I ain't tryin' to be mean, Daryl…But you're lucky it was me who saw her in there, and not Hershel."

"Guess you got a point."

"I do."

Daryl glanced past him and then grabbed his crossbow, aiming it next to his head. Rick stared at him, wide-eyed as an arrow flew past him. If it would have been an inch closer, the feather would have brushed against his temple. He saw it fly by from the corner of his eye, and then spun around to see that it had landed in-between the eyes of a walker. Daryl walked past him and quickly retrieved the arrow. Looking up, he realized that there wasn't just one of them. Without hesitation, he stuffed his arrow into his crossbow.

"Run!" He yelled as he turned around and ran past Rick.

Rick looked up and saw that there were more walkers emerging from the woods. There had to be at least twenty of them.

"Shit!"

Without thinking, he yanked his pistol out of its holster an aimed. A gunshot echoed throughout the area as he shot one of the undead beings in its head. It fell limply onto the ground. He raised his gun and aimed again. They were getting too close, though, and he knew that he needed to run.

"Rick! C'mon!"

Rick glanced back at Daryl, who had drawn his crossbow again. Without hesitation, the former sherriff turned around and ran away from the mob of walkers as fast as he could. Another arrow flew past him. Daryl didn't try to retrieve it though. He waited for Rick to catch up, and then the two of them sprinted down the road. Unfortunately, Rick's gunshot had managed to attract more of them.

"Watch out!" Daryl warned, raising his crossbow again.

He released an arrow, and it flew into the head of a walker limping out of the woods up ahead. It fell onto the ground, and three other walkers appeared. Daryl cursed under his breath, realizing that he had just lost another arrow.

"This way!" Rick yelled, running towards the woods on the other side of the road.

As soon as he made it to the edge of the wooded area, a walker lunged at him from behind a tree. It knocked him on the ground, and he reflexively yelped. It fell on top of him, but didn't move. He realized that this was due to an arrow stuck in its scalp.

"Jesus," He mumbled, pushing the rotten body off of himself.

He quickly yanked the arrow out of its head and handed it to Daryl, who had materialized next to him.

"Thanks."

"You okay?" Daryl asked.

Rick leaned over and grabbed his basket.

"Yeah."

Without saying anything else, they both disappeared into the woods. The two of them ran as fast as they could, and didn't stop until making sure that they were no longer being followed. Using the back of his hand, Rick wiped the sweat off of his forehead. Daryl did the same, nervously glancing around. He stuck the arrow that Rick had handed him into the sheath connected to his crossbow, and then slung the crossbow over his shoulder.

"You alright?" Rick asked.

"I'm fine. What about you?"

"I already told you; I'm okay."

"Yer bleedin'."

"What?"

Daryl took a step forward and grabbed Rick's shoulder, turning him around.

"Yer head," He replied, "You gotta big gash just above yer neck."

Rick reached his hand back and grabbed his head, surprised to find that Daryl was right. He could feel the sore exactly where Daryl had said it was. Wiping his neck with his palm, he brought his hand in front of him and saw that it was covered in a dark crimson.

"I don't feel anything," He said, his voice a bit shaky.

"Probably jus' yer adrenaline," Daryl noted, "But you'll start feelin' it soon enough."

Rick wiped his hand on his pants and took a deep breath, letting it out as he leaned against a tree. He cursed inwardly. He shoved his gun into its holster and slid down the tree until he was sitting on the ground.

"Dammit," He whispered, "Must've knocked my head on the ground when that damn walker-"

"Don't matter," Daryl interjected, "We need to get to the prison and have Hershel check it out."

Rick stood up and nodded.

"You're right. Let's go."

Daryl turned away from him without replying and began walking in the direction that they had originally been going. Rick followed him, glancing around every now and then to make sure that they weren't going to be ambushed by anymore walkers. Fortunately, it didn't take very long to get back to the prison. The two of them emerged from the woods a mere twenty minutes later, and the prison border was right in front of them. Without hesitation, Rick ran up to the front gate and dropped his basket. He grabbed the chain keeping the gate closed and unlocked the lock attached. The chain fell apart, and Rick pushed the gate open. He grabbed his basket and walked in, waiting for Daryl to enter before locking the gate up again.

Turning around, he felt a sudden rush of dizziness, and almost fell over.

"Jesus, Rick!"

Rick stumbled sideways, but caught himself on the fence before falling.

"You okay?"

Rick nodded, even though he wasn't too sure that it was true. His head had started throbbing, and he felt a bit nauseaus. He could stand up, though. Luckily, the dizziness had gone away. Carefully, he leaned down to grab his basket. Daryl watched as he walked up to the second gate and unlocked it. They both walked through, and Rick locked the gate. He turned around and followed Daryl into the prison courtyard. Without warning, the dizziness came back, and the world spun around him. His knees buckled underneath him, and he hit the ground. This time he didn't get back up.

"Rick!_ Rick_!"

He could hear Daryl yelling his name, and then footsteps rapidly approach. The last thing he saw was a blurry image of the redneck kneeling beside him. And then everything went black.

::::::::::::::

"I could use some help!" Daryl yelled.

Everybody in the area turned their attention to Daryl, who was struggling to carry Rick in. Glenn quickly stood up from his seat at one of the metal tables and ran over. He helped Daryl carry Rick over to a table, and they laid him down on top of it.

"What happened?"

Daryl heard the familiar female voice and looked up.

"He fell."

Beth looked up at him, and then back at Rick. He was definitely unconscious, but he was breathing.

"I'll go get my dad."

Daryl nodded. She turned around and ran off, disappearing into the cell block. Hershel arrived moments later. He assessed the situation, and then asked what had happened. Glenn told him that Rick had fallen, and Daryl explained in detail how he had managed to smack his head on the ground after being attacked by a walker.

"Was he bitten?" Hershel asked.

The old man looked up at Daryl with a worrisome expression.

"No."

Hershel let out a sigh of relief, and then turned his attention back to Rick.

"I need everybody to get out," He calmly replied.

Everybody turned to leave.

"Not you, Daryl."

Daryl stopped walking and turned around. After everybody else had disappeared, Hershel cleared his throat. Daryl gave him an inquisitive look, waiting for him to explain why he wasn't allowed to leave.

"Was he bitten?" Hershel asked a second time.

"I already told you no, old man."

Hershel looked at him disapprovingly. Daryl knew it was because he had referred to him as an old man.

"I just wanted to make sure you weren't lying to keep everybody else calm," Hershel replied.

The old man turned his attention back to Rick, but Daryl remained in the room. He studied Hershel curiously. There was something about him that made him uncomfortable, but he didn't know what.

"You can go now," Hershel said without turning around.

Daryl noted the hint of annoyance in his voice, and turned around to leave. He mumbled something derogatory on his way out, making sure that it was just loud enough for Hershel to hear.

Walking into the cell block, he found that Beth was waiting for him by the metal staircase. Upon seeing him, she smiled. Daryl didn't smile back, but nodded towards her to acknowledge her greeting. This made her a bit concerned. After looking around to make sure that nobody was watching them, she walked over to him. He didn't say anything.

"Are you okay?" She asked.

"Yeah."

"What happened to Rick?"

"He fell."

"Will he be okay?"

"I dunno! What is this, ask twenty questions?"

Beth dropped her head, and Daryl could tell that his previous comment had upset her. He quietly told her to follow him. She did as he asked. Walking into one of the currently empty cells, Daryl sat down on the bottom cot. Beth sat next to him and watched as he pulled his crossbow off and carefully placed it on the floor in front of them.

"Rick brought up you sleepin' in my cell."

Beth looked up at him and furrowed her brow.

"What?"

"He don' like it."

Beth didn't reply. She wasn't really sure how to respond.

"It probably ain't a good idea for you to keep doin' it," Daryl continued, "If yer daddy-"

"He wouldn't think nothin' of it. He knows I have trouble sleepin' alone."

"He don' like me much."

Beth grunted, and Daryl smirked. He knew what she was going to say before she even said it.

"If you weren't such an… I mean, if you weren't so mean to people."

"I ain't never been mean ta yer pa."

"No," Beth replied, "But he's seen you be mean to others."

Daryl groaned. He involuntarily yawned, and realized that he was actually quite exhausted.

"It's fine. I'll stop sleeping in your cell."

"We'll work somethin' out."

Beth nodded. Daryl stood up and grabbed his crossbow, walking out without saying anything else. Shortly after he walked off, Maggie materialized in the doorway. She was surprised to find Beth sitting on her cot.

"What's up?" She asked.

Beth looked up at her older sister and realized that she had been sitting in the cell that Maggie and Glenn usually shared.

"Nothing."

Maggie cocked her head to one side and studied Beth carefully.

"Somethin' wrong?"

"No…I'm just a little tired."

Maggie nodded, walking over to sit next to her little sister. She sat down on the cot and wrapped an arm around Beth. Beth visibly appreciated it, resting her head on Maggie's shoulder.

"A lot of stress, ain't it?"

Beth nodded.

"Y'know I'm always here, right?"

Beth nodded again.

"Can you talk?"

Beth nodded once more, and both of them laughed. Beth sat up and Maggie let her arm drop away from her younger sister. Beth stood up and hugged her, then left after wishing her a good night.

Quietly, the young blonde walked into the area that Hershel had been taking care of Rick in. There was a mixture of blood and dirt on the table that Rick had been laying on, but he was no longer there. Beth was surprised to find that her father was not in the room, either. She wondered where they were. Curious as to whether or not Rick was okay, she ventured off to find her father. After searching the area, she found him in Rick's cell. Rick was lying on his cot with his head wrapped in a compression bandage, and her father was sitting in a chair next to him.

"Is he okay?" Beth asked.

Hershel looked up at his youngest child and nodded.

"His breathing is normal," He rasped, "And his heart is beating regularly. He's lost blood, but I think exhaustion is what sent him over the edge. I'll make him stay in bed for a couple of days, and he'll be as good as new in no time."

"I'm glad," Beth replied, smiling.

"Speakin' of sleep," Hershel continued, "You ought to get some. You don't look very well, Honey."

"I'm fine."

Hershel looked at her as if he were about to scorn, and she gave in.

"Alright. I'll go to bed."

"Good night."

"Good night. I love you."

"I love you, too."

Beth stepped out of Rick's cell and began making her way to Daryl's. She stopped walking when she noticed that Daryl was further down. He was kneeling on one leg, and messing around with the gate of somebody's cell. Curious, the young blonde walked over to him. The gate he was messing with was the one connected to her cell. And he wasn't just messing with it; he was disconnecting it.

"What are you doing?" Beth asked.

Daryl didn't look up at her.

"I'm screwing off the hinges."

"Why?"

He looked up at her smirked.

"You said your fear was the door closin' on ya, right?"

Daryl turned his attention back to the bottom hinge on the cell door and continued working on it. Beth watched intently, her cheeks turning slightly red as she realized that he was doing something genuinely kind just for her. She stared at Daryl as he stood up, and watched with amazement as he pulled the metal door away from her cell. He tilted it slightly to the side, and then carried it into the cell and leaned it against the wall.

"Now ya don' have ta sleep with me."

"Th-thanks," Beth stammered, flattered by his kindness.

"No problem. Seeya."

With that, he walked out and disappeared. Beth sat down on her cot and stared at the disconnected cell door.

"Wow…"


	7. Chapter 7

Carol woke up to the familiar sound of baby Judith's crying. She opened her eyes and sat up, stretching her arms out in either direction. Slipping her shoes on, she stood up and made her way out of her cell, walking down the catwalk and into Rick's room. Rick was getting out of bed just as she appeared in the doorway to his cell.

"I'll get her for you," Carol replied.

Rick looked at her and nodded, inviting her in. He sat up and swung his feet over the side of his cot, and then grabbed his head. He winced at the intense pain in the back of his skull.

"Jesus."

"You had quite a fall," Carol replied.

"What the hell happened?"

"Daryl said you smacked your head on the ground."

The older woman leaned over Judith's crib and carefully picked the baby up. She cradled the infant in her arms, gently rocking her from side-to-side in an attempt to calm her down. Rick let go of his head and groaned.

"I know," He replied, "But what happened after that? The last thing I remember was arriving at the prison…"

"You lost a lot of blood."

Judith had seemed to calm down a little, so Carol sat down in the small chair Rick had placed next to her crib. She looked down at Judith and smiled. Judith smiled back, giggling.

"Hershel said you most likely passed out from exhaustion," Carol continued, "You really should rest a while, Rick."

She looked up at the man with a concerned look, and he let out a thoughtful sigh.

"Maybe I will."

Carol nodded in approval, and then returned her attention to the baby fidgeting in her arms. Judith seemed upset about something. Since she didn't necessarily smell bad, Carol knew that her diaper wasn't in need of being changed. The only other option was hunger. Without hesitation, the older woman stood up and gave Rick a sheepish smile.

"You get some rest," She replied, "I'll feed Judith."

Rick nodded, and Carol left. She made her way downstairs, and into the kitchen area. She was surprised to see Beth and Daryl sitting together at one of the metal tables. They both looked up at Carol when she came in, but turned their attention back to each other after she had disappeared into the supply room.

"So, you're twenty-nine?" Beth asked.

Daryl shrugged, implying that he wasn't sure. Beth raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"You don't know how old you are?"

"I dunno. Lost count."

"So you could be forty, and you'd have no idea."

"Chill out. I ain't _that_ old."

"When's your birthday?"

Daryl gave her the month, day, and year of his birth. Beth was quiet for a moment as she added it up in her head. She was surprised to find that Daryl wasn't actuslly twenty-nine, but thirty.

"You turned thirty two weeks ago!"

Daryl face-palmed, chuckling. He suddenly felt stupid for being unable to keep track of his own age.

"Well," Beth replied, "Happy late birthday."

"Thanks," Daryl said with a hint of sarcasm.

He brought his arm down from his face, and rested it on his knee. Beth scoot closer to him, and reached underneath the table to grab his hand. He allowed her to take it. Pulling his hand on top of the table, she entwined her fingers with his and smiled. He gave her a crooked grin, feeling awkward. He didn't complain, though.

"Hey, Daryl?"

"Hm?"

"Have you ever-"

Carol walked back into the room and Beth stopped mid-sentence. She quickly let go of Daryl's hand, and dropped her arm back to her side. Daryl was a bit disappointed that she had let go of him, but didn't dare say so. He just sat there, silently hoping that Carol would leave. When she didn't, he stood up and began to walk off.

"Where are you going?" Beth asked.

"Need ta talk ta Rick."

He disappeared into the cell block, and Beth was left alone with Carol in the kitchen. Carol looked over at her and smiled.

"Mind if I sit here?" She asked, gesturing to the table Beth was siting at.

Beth shook her head, and Carol sat down across from her. There was a moment of silence between them, and then Carol asked Beth how she was doing.

"I'm okay. What about you?"

"I'm okay, too."

Beth nodded. She didn't know what else to say, so pretended that she was messing with something in her lap. Silence ensued for almost twenty minutes before the young blonde spoke up again.

"Carol?"

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you something?"

Carol looked up from Judith and turned her attention to Beth.

"Of course." She replied.

"Well, I…"

Beth trailed off. She sighed, and the older woman could tell that she was having difficulty finding the right words. She nervously glanced around, and then continued talking after making sure that there wasn't anybody close enough to hear her.

"Have you ever liked anybody, but you know that they don't feel the same way?"

Carol smiled.

"Are you talking about Daryl?" She asked.

Beth's eyes widened. She quickly diverted her gaze elsewhere, hoping that Carol hadn't seen her immediate expression. Carol couldn't help but laugh at her reaction.

"Don't worry," She replied, "I'm not going to tell anyone."

This seemed to calm Beth down. She looked up at Carol and smiled.

"How…How did you know?"

"I could just tell."

"Geez…"

"Daryl likes you."

"What?"

"He likes you, honey. I can tell by the way he looks at you."

"But… But he doesn't act like it."

"Trust me," Carol replied with confidence, "He likes you. He just doesn't realize it yet."

Beth didn't reply. She remained silent for a while after that, thinking about what Carol had told her. She wondered if it was true. Even though Carol seemed confident, Beth was rather doubtful. She didn't understand how somebody could like a woman and not realize it.

"Look," Carol explained, "Daryl isn't very familiar with his emotions. You have to tell him how you feel. I don't think he'll come to realize it on his own. And once you tell him, he'll begin to wonder if he feels the same way."

"What if he doesn't?" Beth asked.

"He will. He already does."

Beth sighed, a bit frustrated.

"How can you be so sure?"

"For one, He let you hold his hand."

Beth blushed. She didn't know that Carol had seen that.

"And secondly," Carol continued, "He's happy around you. I don't think I've ever seen him like that. He smiles when you're near him. Daryl never smiles."

"Yes he does," Beth argued.

Carol shook her head. She glanced down at Judith to make sure that she was okay.

"Not like he does when he's with you."

"What do you mean?"

"Daryl smirks. Daryl Grins. He doesn't smile... Except for when you're with him. Get you two together, and he smiles as if all of his worries have magically disappeared."

Beth cocked her head to the side and studied Carol carefully.

"It's true. Give him some time," Carol added, "And when you think it's the right time, you tell him how you feel."

Beth stood up from the table and glanced toward the gate leading into the area filled with cells. She wondered what Daryl was doing at the moment. Perhaps he was still talking to Rick. Unless, of course, that had just been an excuse to leave the room. Beth rolled her eyes at the thought.

"Well," She said as she looked back at Carol one more time, "Thanks."

With that, the young girl walked off to find somewhere she could sit down and mull things over. Carol had given her a lot of advice, and she needed some time to think about it.


	8. Chapter 8

Daryl made his way into Rick's cell and sat down on the flimsy-looking wooden chair next to Judith's crib. Rick leaned back on his cot and studied the man before him carefully. He wondered what it was that the man wanted. The fact that he wasn't making any effort to converse made Rick a bit curious.

"Can I help you?" Rick asked, raising an eyebrow curiously.

Daryl looked up at him and shrugged. He wasn't really sure what to say.

"Okay, then…"

"Am I botherin' you?" Daryl asked.

"Nah," Rick shifted to the side, "Just wonderin' what you're doing here."

Daryl nodded. He was quiet for a while after that. Rick continued to watch him closely, but he wasn't able to decipher his expression. His face was placid, and the fidgeting had stopped. The only noticeable difference in Daryl's appearance was that he seemed tense. He seemed as if something was making him uneasy; his jaw set, and his shoulders squared.

"Are you alright?" Rick asked, a little concerned by Daryl's odd behavior.

"Yeah, man. I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You look a little…"

"I said I'm fine," Daryl hissed, "Just…whatever."

"What?"

"Nothing. I just wanted ta talk ta you."

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

"Well, what do you want to talk about?"

Rick leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, discreetly yawning as Daryl wracked his brain for something to talk about. Daryl wasn't really sure what he had come to Rick for. His initial plan was to use him as an excuse to escape Carol and Beth, but now it felt awkward just sitting in Rick's cell without saying anything. He didn't know what to say, though.

"Did you really come here to talk?"

Daryl scratched the back of his head and looked up at Rick.

"Not…Not really," He replied.

"What's on yer mind, Daryl?"

Rick uncrossed his arms and sat forward, studying the man before him. He cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow curiously. Daryl responded by shrugging his arms and covering his face with his hands. He felt something tugging at him from the inside, but he had no idea what it was. There was a weird, unfamiliar feeling trying to surface, and it made him uncomfortable. It was what invaded his body every time Beth was near him. His stomach would feel all fluttery, and he could feel the heat in his cheeks. If she touched him- if her skin made any contact with his- he'd receive an incredible tingly sensation throughout his entire body.

It was unlike anything he had ever felt before, and it was... confusing.

"It's okay," Rick replied, "Don't stress yourself out."

Daryl felt Rick's hand on his shoulder, and was immediately pulled out of his reverie. He pulled his hands away from his face and looked up at the former sheriff. Rick watched intently as the younger man combed his hand through his greasy blonde hair. He could tell that something was upsetting Daryl, and couldn't help but wonder what it was that could stress him out to such an extent. He'd never seen the man so flustered before, and it was a little worrisome, to be truthful.

"You're worrying me," Rick quietly admitted.

"I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

"It's just…" Daryl found himself shrugging again.

"What?"

"I dunno."

"You can tell me, Daryl. What is it?"

"No. I can't tell ya, Rick. 'Cause I don' even know what the fuck it is!"

Daryl's voice quickly rose into a shout. Rick's incessant prying was making him impatient, and he was becoming increasingly aggravated.

"Whatever," Daryl spat, "I don' need this shit."

With that, he left. Rick watched him storm out of the cell, and found himself bewildered; thoroughly confused by Daryl's sudden temper. Was it something that he had said? He didn't recall saying anything that would send the man into such a rage. But then again, it wasn't hard to set Daryl off. You could tell that man that you didn't like his outfit, and he'd probably put an arrow through your head before you could even utter out an apology. Rick shook his head at the thought.

"Hey there."

The familiar voice shook Rick out of his own reverie, and he found himself looking up at Hershel. The old man was standing in the doorway to the cell, a crutch under either of his arms. He was giving Rick a lopsided grin, but it was hard to make out under all of the white facial hair.

"I came to check out your head, if that's fine."

Rick simply nodded. He watched as the old man limped toward him, and noticed that he was holding a medium-sized medical bag in his left hand. Hershel sat in the wooden chair across from him and leaned his crutches against the wall before dropping his bag and zipping it open. Rick watched as he reached into the bag and pulled out a roll of fresh bandage.

"Let me see your head," Hershel politely asked.

Rick leaned forward, and the old man reached up to grab the side of his head. Hershel used his free hand to carefully unwrap the soiled bandage, and then carelessly dropped the bandage on the ground. He then turned Rick's head to the side.

"Let me see the wound."

Rick twisted his head around as far as he could, and Hershel scrutinized the injury. After looking at the rather large gash in the back of his friend's head, he returned his attention to the medical bag next to him on the ground. He pulled out a single latex glove, and shoved his right hand into it. He then reached into the bag again, this time pulling out a half-empty bottle of peroxide, and a bag of cotton balls. Rick watched him open the peroxide and pour it onto a cotton ball.

"Lean forward."

Rick did as he asked. He patiently waited as Hershel used the cotton ball to clean his wound. He sat back after the old man had dropped the piece of cotton, and watched as he grabbed the fresh roll of bandage that he had pulled out earlier. Leaning forward again, Rick allowed him to wrap the bandage around his head and stick it in place.

"Alrighty, then. Is everything feeling okay?"

"Yeah."

"There isn't any dizziness or other complications, then?"

Rick nodded. There was a constant throbbing pain in his head, but that was normal. As for dizziness…well, it wasn't that often, so it probably wasn't worth bringing up. Besides, he knew that Hershel would force him to stay in bed if he told him about it. And he didn't want to be stuck in bed any longer than he had to be. There were things that he needed to get done, and he couldn't do them if Hershel put him on bed rest.

"Okay. Keep the dressing clean, and tell me if anything comes up," Hershel replied, " If you start feeling dizzy or lightheaded, tell me. There's bound to be pain, but we can handle that with some medication if it's necessary. Try not to over-work yourself, Rick. The pain will just get worse if you do. We can't afford to use up a lot of the medication."

"I know."

Hershel reached into his bag one last time, pulling out a small pill bottle. He opened the child-proof cap and spilled four ovular pills into his palm. Handing them to Rick, he closed the pill bottle up again and dropped back it into his bag. Rick watched as he zipped the bag up and grabbed his crutches.

"Take one every four hours as long as the pain lasts," Hershel instructed.

Rick nodded, and the old man stood up.

"Could you hand me those?" Hershel asked, gesturing towards the soiled supplies he had tossed onto the ground.

Rick reached down and grabbed the bandage and cotton ball. He handed them to Hershel.

"I'll throw 'em away for ya."

With that, the old man limped out of the cell and disappeared.

:::::::::::::::

Beth had been in her cell for nearly an hour, mulling over what Carol had told her. Her biggest worry was the fact that Daryl wouldn't come to realize his feelings on his own. It meant that she would have to admit her feelings first, and the very thought of it made her extremely nervous. What if he rejected her?

"_He likes you, honey. I can tell by the way he looks at you."_

That's what Carol had said, but it wasn't very reassuring. Beth had never noticed him looking at her. Not the way Carol had said, anyway. But Carol had said something else, too.

_"He's happy around you. I don't think I've ever seen him like that. He smiles when you're near him. Daryl never smiles."_

It was true. Daryl never smiled as genuinely around anybody other than Beth. He'd smirk, or give somebody the occasional grin, but never truly smile. Beth seemed to be the only person worthy of such a thing.

_He's happy around you…_

And Beth was happy around him, too. So they made each other happy. But was that enough? Beth wasn't sure if it was. And that doubt made her feel even more nervous.

"_Daryl likes you."_

Did he? Beth wasn't so sure. And yet Carol seemed so confident. Maybe it was true. But if it wasn't…

_Fuck it, _Beth thought. She stood up from her cot and took a deep breath.

"I'm gonna do this," She said aloud to herself, "Now's just as good a time as any."

Without another thought, she stomped out of her cell and walked towards the stairs, determined to confess her feelings for the man she had been thinking about all evening. Just as she made it to the stairs, she turned around and headed back towards her cell. The queasy feeling in her stomach had become almost unbearable, and she knew that she couldn't pull through with the plan.

"Nope. Not right now," She replied, cowering away.

She walked back to her cell and stopped in the doorway, thinking things over. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe she should just tell him and get it over with.

"Hey."

The voice was so close and unexpected that Beth jumped nearly a foot in the air.

"Did I scare ya?"

Beth turned around to find Daryl standing there with a crooked grin and a raised eyebrow. She found herself speechless at his sudden appearance.

"Ya okay?" Daryl asked.

Beth just stared at him, wide-eyed and nervous.

"Hey, girl. You okay?"

"I have to tell you something," She blurted out without thinking, "I have to tell you something right now."


	9. Chapter 9

**A WEEK LATER**

Rick unwrapped the bandage on his head and turned his head ninety degrees so that Hershel could examine the wound that had once marred the back of his skull. Hershel carefully moved a patch of Rick's greasy hair aside, taking a close look at the area. What once had been a bloody gash in the former sheriff's head was now just a scar. There was no longer any need to keep it bandaged. Being said, Hershel threw the soiled bandage out, telling Rick that he no longer had to stay in bed.

"Thank you," Rick sincerely replied.

He stood up and held out his hand towards the old man. Hershel looked at his hand for a moment, and then just shook his head. He grabbed his crutches and stood up, putting one under either of his arms before clearing his throat.

"No need to thank me, Rick. It's what I do."

Rick dropped his hand and nodded in reply. Hershel gave him a humble nod in return, and then turned to leave. His crutches clicked against the metal catwalk, and Rick listened as the noise paused when Hershel made it to the steps. The sound continued after Hershel had made it downstairs, but was too faint for him to hear.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Rick sat back down on his cot and grabbed his boots. He shoved his feet into them and leaned forward to tie them. Once he was finished, he looked up to find that Daryl had materialized in the doorway of his cell. He was accompanied by Glenn, who had a large machete sheathed at his hip. Rick eyeballed the weapon for a moment, wondering where it had come from. He didn't remember bringing it in with any of the previous weapon hauls.

"Well, we gon' go, or not?" Daryl asked.

Rick looked up at the redneck and nodded. He then proceeded to stand up and grab a semi-automatic rifle out of the corner of his cell before walking out with them. Glenn looked worried.

"Something wrong?"

The young Korean shook his head, and they continued to make their way downstairs. Once they were outside, Glenn finally spoke up.

"Hershel said you're good?"

"Good enough," Rick replied.

Glenn didn't seem satisfied by the answer,but didn't argue. He knew nothing could keep Rick from going out with them. After all, the man had been forced on bed rest for a week, and had been waiting for the opportunity to get out and do some work the entire time.

"Okay."

Rick glanced over at him and nodded; a sort of reassurance that he was in good health. Glenn gave him a wary smile. He then walked up to the prison gate and grabbed the chain connecting it. Rick handed him a pair of old keys, and he shoved them into the padlock keeping the chain connected. Turning the keys, he pulled on the padlock and it opened. The chain fell apart, Glenn pushed the gate open, and the two others made their way through. He followed, but turned around to reconnect the chain and lock it before approaching the second gate. Rick and Daryl watched as he worked on the second gate just as he had the first, and then they all turned to face the dirt road ahead of them. Glenn handed the keys back to Rick, and Rick shoved them into the breast pocket of his uniform.

"Where we headin' ?" Daryl asked.

Rick combed his fingers through his hair, and then looked around.

"Need food." Was all that he said.

"No shit."

Rick shot him a look, but didn't say anything.

"Well," Glenn sighed, "Where do we plan on getting food? You and I could go to town and look around while Daryl hunts..."

Rick didn't seem too thrilled with the idea.

"We ought to stay together," He explained, "Especially with the governor still out there."

"There was still a lot in the supermarket when we left last time," Glenn pointed out, "We could see if it's still there."

Rick looked over at Daryl to see if he approved. Daryl nodded, and he turned his attention back to Glenn, who was still waiting for an answer.

"Let's head into town."

When they arrived in town, things seemed quiet. There weren't many walkers around, and the roads were relatively clear of any corpses. Cars were riddled throughout the streets, but most of them were empty. A few of them held rotting body parts, but nothing significantly dangerous.

"Disgusting," Glenn muttered as they passed by a truck who's driver seat was covered in guts. The headrest was plastered with brain matter and strands of dark brown hair.

"You've seen worse," Rick replied.

Glenn covered his mouth and shook his head.

"I'll never get used to it," He replied.

Daryl mumbled something under his breath, but neither of them could understand him. Rick decided that it was probably for the best, and refrained from asking him to repeat himself.

Glenn suddenly stopped walking. He was frowning at the sight of something ahead of them. Daryl and Rick both turned their attention to the large grocery store down the street. There was an unfamiliar Jeep parked in front of it, but that wasn't what Glenn was staring at. He was more interested in the hundreds of walkers attacking the building from every side. Walkers of every shape, size, and age. All of them were clawing at the brick exterior,desperately trying to get inside.

"Shit!" Daryl yelled without thinking.

A few of the undead beings turned their attention from the store to look around for the source of the noise. Rick quickly ducked behind a car, pulling Glenn down with him. Daryl ducked behind the car next to them. Rick shot him an annoyed glance from across the street,but didn't say anything.

"What the fuck now?" Daryl whispered.

"That place is infested," Glenn replied, "There's no way we're getting in there."

Rick nodded.

"This gives us an opportunity," He added, "We can check out the other stores around while the walkers are focused on the supermarket."

Rick proceeded to slowly stand up. He peered over the car to make sure that any walkers Daryl had attracted were gone, and then gestured for them to continue walking down the street. He then led them down the road and into a pharmacy. Most of the shelves had been ransacked, but there were still a few medications scattered around on the floor.

Glenn kicked a small box of ibuprofen and frowned.

"Not much in here." He mumbled.

Rick looked over at the young Korean and gave him a lopsided smile and a shrug. He leaned down and picked up a small box laying face-down on the ground. It was labeled as children's pain-killers.

"You're right," He replied, "It ain't much, but at least it's somethin'."

"Well hurry up'n get it,then," Daryl grumbled, "So we can get the hell outta here."

Daryl was an outdoors guy, and he hated being stuck inside of a building. The prison was bearable solely because of its size. But the pharmacy was considerably smaller, and he was becoming increasingly impatient in it. He wanted to get outside as soon as possible. Admittedly, he wouldn't mind going hunting. If Rick hadn't protested the idea earlier, he'd be out in the woods hunting down deer or something while the other two searched the area for leftover supplies. But no, he had to be stuck in this tiny-ass pharmacy. It was making him antsy.

Rick could tell.

"Why don't you go out front and guard us while we pack things up?"

Daryl left without argument. Rick watched the door close behind him, and then turned his attention back to the almost completely barren shelves next to him.

"I'll take anything I can find up here," he said to Glenn without taking his eyes off of the shelves, "You comb through the other half of the store."

Glenn nodded, even though he knew that Rick couldn't see him, and then turned around and walked away. He glanced around as he walked, making sure that he didn't overlook anything. When he made it to the back of the store, he was surprised to find that there was an entire wall of shelves filled with over-the-counter medications.

"Hey, Rick!"

"What?"

"Come here a minute."

He turned around, and was surprised to find that Rick was already emerging from one of the aisles to meet him. He held a small box out for Glenn, and Glenn took it. Turning the box around to read the label, he immediately recognized what he had been given as condoms.

"Uh..."

For a moment he thought that Rick was messing with him,but he looked up to find no trace of amusement on the man's face.

"Th-thanks," Glenn stammered, shoving the box into his pocket. He could feel the blood rising into his cheeks.

"No problem."

Rick turned his attention away from Glenn, and looked over at the wall of meds in front of them. It was shelved with varying types of useful medications, from your everyday vitamins, to heavy pain-killers.

"Looks like we found ourselves quite a load," Rick said after staring at the shelves for a while.

"Thought you'd be interested," Glenn replied.

Rick looked over at him and nodded. He held out his hand and Glenn shrugged off the backpack he had been wearing, handing it to him. Rick unzipped it, surprised to find that there were two cloth knapsack within. They were identical; green with black straps.

Rick pulled one of the green knapsacks out of the backpack and zipped the backpack up, handing it back to Glenn.

"We'll just fill this one up with meds," Rick explained, "Keep the other two for food."

After Rick had filled the bag up with as much medication as possible, he pulled the straps so that it closed, took the rifle off of his back, and swung the bag around and put it on. After hanging the rifle over his shoulder, he walked away without saying anything, and Glenn followed. The two of them made their way through the maze of shelves, and over to the front door. After Rick peeked out to make sure that it was safe to leave, and then they walked outside and looked around for Daryl. Unfortunately, he was nowhere to be seen. This worried Rick considerably.

"Da-"

He started to call out for Daryl, but Glenn hit him, pointing toward the walkers attacking the supermarket just across the street. If he yelled, they would most likely give up whoever was inside of there, and turn their attention to him and Glenn.

"Did you forget?" Glenn asked incredulously.

Rick gave him an apologetic smile in reply.

"You could've got us-"

Pop!

Glenn stopped mid-sentence and jerked around to look in the direction that the gunshot had come from. Rick did the same. Both of them glanced around,looking for the source of the sudden noise, but couldn't see anybody. After another shot echoed throughout the area, Rick pulled Glenn over to hide behind a car. Glenn yanked his machete out of its sheath, and Rick drew his pistol from its holster.

"Did Daryl bring a gun?" He asked.

Glenn swallowed hard.

"No," He replied.

"Shit. Who the hell...Dammit! Where is Daryl?"

Glenn peeked around the side of the car they were hiding behind, and saw a disturbingly familiar face.

"Martinez." He whispered.

"What?"

The assailant aimed his gun at Glenn and pulled the trigger. Another gunshot echoed throughout the area, and Glenn quickly ducked back behind the car as the bullet flew by him and ricocheted off of the pavement merely a foot away. He gasped, surprised by how close he had come to getting shot, and Rick asked him if he was okay.

"Yeah," He replied, "didn't hit me."

"Did you get a look at him?"

Glenn nodded.

"It's Martinez."

"Who?" Rick asked, his brow slightly furrowed.

"Martinez," Glenn repeated, "That Hispanic guy who hangs out with the governor."

"Fuck." Rick turned away from him and closed his eyes, hitting his head back against the car in frustration.

"Yeah," Glenn said, " He's not too far away. Maybe fifty feet away, standing on top of a red pickup."

Rick's eyes shot open, and he was surprised to hear that he was that close. It would be relatively easy to shoot him from that distance. Hell, it was shocking that he had missed Glenn from that distance.

"Let me get over there," Rick demanded, gesturing for Glenn to switch spots with him.

Glenn did as he asked. Rick took his spot and peeked around the side of the car, looking for their assailant. He found him on the hood of a red Dodge pickup truck, just as Glenn had said. Without thinking, he held up his pistol, aimed for Martinez, and pulled the trigger. He watched Martinez fall off of the truck he had been standing on, and couldn't help but feel satisfied.

All of his satisfaction disappeared, however, when something flew past him. Once realizing that it had come from the same direction as Martinez, he jerked himself around, and looked for the object. He was surprised to find that it was an arrow. It was lodged in one of the headlights of the car in front of him, and the green and white feathers attached to it looked familiar.

"Is that..."

"Daryl' s." Rick said before Glenn could finish talking.

"Why the hell is Daryl shooting at us!?" Glenn asked incredulously.

"I don't know."

Curious, Rick looked around the car again. Martinez had not reappeared on the hood of the truck, and was nowhere else to be seen. Neither was Daryl, though. Rick could only hope that nobody had killed him and taken his crossbow.

Unexpectedly, another gunshot rang out. Almost immediately,Rick felt the sharp pain just above his right shoulder blade. He fell forward and grasped at his back, screaming in pain.

"Rick!" Glenn yelled, reaching forward to pull him out of the line of fire.

"Shit!" Daryl exclaimed.

He glared over at Martinez, who had quickly recuperated from the bullet in his arm, and was now aiming an assault rifle at Rick. Martinez looked back at him, wondering why he was cursing.

"Why the he'll you shootin' at Rick!"

Martinez lowered his gun.

"Hey man," He said in a relatively calm tone, " that wasn't me."

"Fuck," Daryl replied, "So we got yer pal shootin' at 'em."

Martinez scowled.

"He ain't my pal any more. He tried to fucking kill me."

"Yeah, yeah...Whatever."

Daryl jumped up from his position behind a silver Nissan Ultima, and ran over to take cover in front of the red truck that Martinez had been standing on earlier. He crouched in front of the headlight and looked over the side, searching for any sign of his allies. There wasn't any.

Pop!

Daryl flinched at the sound. A bullet flew by, missing his head by no more than an inch, and he flung himself backwards so that he could take cover behind the car again. Martinez glanced over at him,but didn't say anything.

"Don' worry 'bout me," Daryl said sarcastically, "I'm fine. Didn't get shot at or nothin'."

Martinez grunted, rolling his eyes.

"You obviously ain't dead," he replied, "So there ain't nothin' ta worry about."

"Whatever."

"How about you stop your bitchin'," Martinez yelled, "And fucking do something useful!"

Daryl glared at him,but didn't argue. He picked his crossbow up and hastily loaded it with an arrow before standing up and looking around for any movement. He didn't see any, so quickly ducked behind the truck again. Martinez must have been having difficulties locating the enemy as well, because he also lowered his weapon. Daryl watched him drop it and sit down. He grabbed his arm where he had been shot, and winced.

"You okay?" Daryl asked.

"Fine. It ain't that bad."

Daryl nodded, and then jumped up and raised his crossbow to look around again. He spotted somebody in the distance, and immediately released an arrow,watching as the target fell to the ground. He then ducked back behind the car and glanced over at Martinez. He was trying to keep up the tough act, but Daryl could tell that he was In a lot of pain.

"You sure you alright?" Daryl asked, legitimately concerned for his new ally.

"Yeah."

Daryl nodded, and then stood up,running back to the silver car he had initially been hiding behind. He peered over the side and- upon finding that nobody was ahead of him- made his way onto the sidewalk. Cautiously, he crept down the sidewalk, making his way towards the pharmacy he, Rick, and Glenn had gone into earlier. Unfortunately, a walker came walking out from behind one of the vehicles lined up in the road.

"Shit!"

Daryl reflexively cursed, drawing its attention. It swiped a rotting hand with only three remaining fingers at him, and he flung himself backwards to escape its attack. He hit the ground and dropped his crossbow, which skidded two feet away. He reached for it, but the walker was already leaning over to grab him. It was going to get hold of him and sink its teeth into his face before he even got the chance to grab his weapon.

"Fuck off!" Daryl yelled, turning his attention towards the undead being preparing to eat him alive.

Without hesitation,he lifted his leg up and kicked the walker' s face a hard as he could. It wasn't enough to kill it, but it was enough to slow it down.

Quickly, Daryl grabbed his crossbow and aimed it at the walker, releasing an arrow into its skull. He leaned forward and yanked out the arrow, turning around as Martinez called out to him. A walker lunged at him from that direction, and he had no time to react before it had grabbed his arm. It's other hand grabbed the side of his head, and it didn't hesitate to go straight for his neck.

Daryl yelled, anticipating the walker to sink its teeth into him and take a chunk of his flesh. Instead, he heard the familiar sound of somebody shooting a rifle. The gunshot echoed throughout the area, and Daryl was splattered with blood as his attacker let go of him and fell onto the ground. Daryl' s eyes widened in disbelief, and all he could do was stare at the limp corpse on the ground, speechless.

He kicked it to make sure that it was dead, and then looked up to find Martinez at the end of the street. He was standing next to the silver Nissan, still aiming his rifle in Daryl' s direction. He dropped the gun and smirked, amused that he had been able to show off, with a useless arm.

Martinez stopped smirking,though, as more walkers erupted from behind the cars. Daryl was the first thing they saw, and the entire crowd began making their way towards him.

"Run!" Martinez yelled.

Daryl glanced back, and cursed inwardly. He quickly stuffed the arrow he had been holding into his crossbow and aimed. He refrained from shooting, however, when he realized that he wouldn't be able to retrieve the arrow. There were way to many walkers.

"Dammit!"

Daryl quickly slung the crossbow over his arm and used the strap attached to carry it on his back. Turning around, he sprinted down the sidewalk and met Martinez next to the silver Nissan at the end of the street. They heard the sound of a car driving away, and looked back to see who it was.

"It's the governor."

"We gotta go," Daryl replied. He glanced back to find that the walkers were only a few feet away, "Now!"

Martinez started running again, and Daryl followed him. They made their way around the red pickup and onto the sidewalk opposite of the pharmacy, running down and into the supermarket parking lot. There were fresh skidmarks by the entrance. Next to them was the corpse of a middle-aged black man. Daryl recognized the arrow sticking in his head, and ran over to retrieve it. He quickly plucked it out, and then ran back over to Martinez. Both of them ran into the supermarket, and slammed the front doors shut. Martinez held them shut, while Daryl ran over to retrieve a mop from behind the customer service desk. He brought it back and handed it to Martinez, who shoved the metal rod through the door handles so that the doors would stay shut.

Exhausted, Martinez took off the ball cap he had been wearing, and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He stepped away from the front doors and watched as the moronic crowd of walkers ran into them, clawing at the heavy-duty plexiglass as if they could break it. After staring at them for a moment, he turned his attention back to Daryl.

"Hey,man. What about your friends out there?"

Daryl furrowed his brow.

"I dunno," He replied, "They woulda been smart enough to hide out somewhere. Hope Rick's okay."

There was a low grumbling noise nearby, and both Martinez and Daryl turned there attention to the walker limping towards them. Since one of its feet had been gnawed off, it was slow, and they actually had time to examine it. It was female,and looked like she had turned at a young age. She was very thin, with sharp features as proof that she had most likely gone days without eating. Her dead, yellowing eyes had sunken into her head, and her nose was bony. What used to be long, luscious blonde locks were now just pieces of short, grimy hair. Most of her scalp was bald, revealing flesh wounds, or patches of rotten skin. Daryl noticed that she was wearing a uniform, which had a logo above her left breast pocket that matched the name of the store. She must have worked here before the apocalypse. When things went to shit,well...the bite Mark on her arm was evidence of her demise.

But now, whoever she was...whatever role she had played in the past...it didn't matter anymore.

Without hesitation, Martinez raised the rifle he had, and shot her in the head. She fell onto the ground and stopped moving. Daryl walked up to the corpse and kicked it to make sure it was dead, and then backed off. Looking up, he saw that there were others.

"Dammit, moron. They heard yer gun."

Daryl cautiously backed away from the approaching walkers, allowing Martinez to shoot them down. Another group emerged, and Daryl raised his crossbow. He aimed, shot, and watched as the arrow flew into a tall,masculine walker with half of its left arm missing. He reloaded his crossbow and lifted it up again. Once more, he aimed, shot, and this time the arrow hit a walker that looked as if it had been gutted; the chest cavity open, and the abdominal area torn to shreds. Intestines flopped around carelessly and hung loosely to its sides as it hit the ground.

Martinez shot the last approaching walker, and it fell onto the ground. Daryl dropped his crossbow to his side, and walked up to retrieve his arrows. He pulled one out of the corpse without any chest or abdomen, and stuffed it into the sheath connected to his crossbow. He then proceeded to walk over to the corpse with a missing forearm, and pulled his arrow out of its head, too. He began to load his crossbow with that arrow, but stopped as he saw movement out of the corner of his eyes.

Looking up, he met gazes with a walker. It lunged at him, and he didn't hesitate to pull his hand up and shove the arrow that he had been holding into the walker's head as hard as he could. The walker fell, and Daryl leaned down, yanking his arrow out of its head. Martinez was impressed, but didn't dare say so. When Daryl looked over at him he just shrugged, acting oblivious to the entire scene he had just witnessed.

"Asshole," Daryl mumbled underneath his breath.

"What?"

Daryl just smirked, shrugging.

"Didn' say nothin'." He replied.

Martinez knew that he was lying, but wasn't really in the mood to argue. Daryl could tell that he was exhausted, and couldn't help but wonder how much blood he had lost.

"How's yer arm?"

"Hurts like hell."

Rick shrugged the knapsack off, dropped his rifle, and struggled to take off his old police uniform shirt. Glenn helped him get it off, and examined the gunshot wound. Unfortunately, it seemed as if the bullet had just missed his shoulder blade. Glenn wasn't a doctor, but he was pretty sure that was a good thing. A bullet shattering Rick's shoulder bone wouldn't have been good. It would have taken months to heal, and Rick would have been put on bed rest again. The bullet wound would require bed rest, but not as much. And it would also heal a lot faster than a shattered bone. Either way, Glenn knew that Rick was fortunate that the bullet had hit him where it did.

"It's bad," Glenn admitted, "But not real bad."

"Sure?" Rick asked through clenched teeth.

"Yeah. Hershel will be able to take care of this. Easy."

Rick nodded mechanically.

"We need to find Daryl," He replied.

Glenn stifled a laugh, amused by Rick's ability to worry about other people when he was stuck in an abandoned pharmacy with a gunshot wound.

"We will. For now, you might feel a little better if you take one of these."

He handed Rick one of the boxes they had taken from the nearby shelves earlier, instructing him to take two tablets. Rick anxiously ripped the box open and tore the plastic off of the pill bottle. He took the cap off, poured four tablets into his hand, and swallowed them before Glenn could protest.

"I said two," Glenn mumbled.

"It hurts," Rick replied.

Glenn scowled.

"Take that many, and you'll never feel pain again."

"Relax," Rick said, "They're low-dosage. Taking twice as many won't kill me."

Glenn held his hand out and Rick handed the bottle back to him.

"Just...Don't take anymore. For a while, at least."

Rick nodded.

"Help me get up," He replied, " We need to go after Daryl."

"What if the governor is still out there?"

"I haven't heard any gunshots. And somebody drove off a while ago. The governor knows I'm injured, anyway. If he were still here, he'd use the opportunity to get me while I'm weakened. He's not afraid to play dirty."

Glenn's expression turned rock hard, and Rick automatically knew what he was thinking about.

"I know that," Glenn replied, thinking back to the day he and Maggie had been held prisoner in Woodbury.

Rick sighed, nodding his head. He held his hand up, and Glenn took it without saying anything else. He pulled the man onto his feet, and handed him his shirt. Rick just shoved the offer away. The entire back was covered in blood, and would end up uncomfortably sticking to him. He'd much rather go around shirtless, even if it made him feel awkward.

"You sure you don't want it?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

Glenn stuffed the shirt into his back pocket and led Rick over to the front door. He cautiously opened it and looked out. After deciding that it was safe enough for them to leave, he opened the door all of the way, and held it for Rick. Rick walked outside and pulled his pistol out of its holster, holding it as a precautionary measure. If anything popped out, he wanted to be prepared.

"Over there," Glenn replied.

He gestured toward the supermarket across the street, and Rick realized that all of the walkers had turned their attention back to that building. They had been drawn into the streets when the gunshots had started, but now they were focused on their original target. There had to be a reason.

"There are your friends," Martinez said.

He pointed out of the front window, and Daryl looked out to find Glenn and Rick standing on the other side of the street. Rick didn't look too good. He was hunched over, and caked with blood. For some reason, he wasn't wearing a shirt.

"We need to get over there," Daryl replied.

Martinez laughed, and Daryl looked over at him, curious. He raised an eyebrow and waited for an explanation of his amusement.

"I don't think your friends will be very happy to see me," Martinez replied.

"They won't care. Yer hurt."

Even though he would' t admit it, the truth was that he actually sort of liked Martinez.

"I just don't wanna be shot on sight."

"Just stick with me, and we'll get us help."

Martinez took his hat off again, this time to scratch the back of his head. When he put it on again, He flipped it around so that the snap-back was in the front.

"Well," He replied, "You got any idea on getting out of here in that thick skull of yours?"

"Shut it." Daryl snapped.

Martinez grinned.

"What you smilin' like an idiot for?"

"No reason."

Daryl hung his crossbow on his back and squinted his eyes at the Hispanic.

"You got any ideas, dumbass?"

Martinez stopped smirking and looked around.

"There are some back exits. Dunno if they're safe or not."

"Probably our best chance of gettin' outta here."

Martinez nodded in agreement, and the two of them began to make their way towards the back of the store. Daryl picked up a grocery basket on the way, shoving whatever he could find into it. When Martinez asked him why, he explained that their group was running low on food.

"You guys still at the prison?" Martinez asked out of pure curiosity.

"What's it to ya?"

Martinez held his hands up defensively.

"Just wondering."

Daryl looked at him suspiciously, and he could tell that the redneck didn't really trust him.

"Hey, man. You don' trust me?"

"Of course not," Daryl replied matter-of-factly.

"I saved your life. You think I'd do that if I was still with the governor?"

Daryl picked up a box containing cans of various types of beans. He dumped the cans into his basket and continued walking, thinking Martinez' s question over in his head. He wasn't really sure how to answer it, so decided just to stay quiet. Martinez wasn't sure whether Daryl' s silence was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Told you," He replied, "I'm not with him anymore. He tried to kill me."

"Yeah," Daryl stopped walking and turned around, "you ain't really told me what the hell happened."

Martinez sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He was trying to ignore the pain in his arm, but it was extremely difficult. He definitely didn't want weakness to show in front of Daryl, though, so he hid the pain as best as he could.

"He tried to kill me," Martinez said at last, "because I tried to kill him."

Daryl stood there, studying the man before him. He wasn't sure how trustworthy Martinez was, but the he didn't seem too dangerous. Besides, he really had saved his life earlier. It was very unlikely that he would do so if still with the governor.

"Why'd you do that?" Daryl asked.

He turned around and continued walking towards the back of the store. Martinez followed him.

"The man is fuckin' loco," He replied.

Daryl glanced back and chuckled at the sight of Martinez making a swirly gesture toward his temple.

"Took you that long to realize the man was a nutcase?"

"Didn't know until..."

"Until what?" Daryl asked, clearly intrigued.

Martinez sighed, shaking his head at the thought.

"The son- of- a- bitch mowed down our men on the side of the road. They didn't wanna listen to him, so he shot 'em all down. Just like that. I was there, man. And it was terrible. A fucking massacre. And when he was done, he walked over and put a fucking bullet in each and every one of their heads, to make sure they didn't turn. He did it without any remorse. And then he turned to us, and I thought he was going to shoot us down, too."

Martinez finished talking, because they had arrived at the back exit. It was barricaded with shelves and an office chair, and there was an old piece of paper taped to the chair. It was a warning that read:

Do not remove. Dead outside.

Daryl dismissed the warning and picked the chair up, throwing it off to the side. He looked back at Martinez, who was just giving him a blank stare.

"I know all that," Daryl replied, "We found the corpses. Found some chick in the truck y'all left behind, too. So your governor didn't kill everybody."

Martinez gave him a crazy look, and Daryl knew that he didn't believe him.

"Seriously," Daryl replied, "And she was scared shitless. Told us all about how your governor killed everyone."

"Stop calling him that!" Martinez yelled, "He ain't my governor any more."

"Anyways," Daryl replied, "You was sayin'?"

Martinez cleared his throat, and Daryl went back to removing the makeshift barricade against the back door. He struggled to remove one of the large metal shelves, but Martinez didn't offer to help. He just watched, continuing to tell the redneck about his attempt to kill Phillip Blake.

"Who the hell is Phillip?" Daryl asked, flipping the first shelf upright and shoving it to the side.

"That's the governor, you fucking moron. You didn't think his name was really governor, did you?"

Daryl scowled, mumbling something derogatory under his breath.

"Anyways," Martinez continued, "We came up here to get food, just like you-"

Daryl had managed to get another shelf upright, but it didn't stay balanced, and ended up tipping over. Martinez jumped back as it flipped onto its side, landing at his feet.

"Watch out, you fucking moron! Are you trying to kill me?"

"Shut yer Damn mouth, " Daryl retorted with equal hostility, " or I will. Just finish your Goddamn story, Cheech."

"What'd you call me?"

"Get over it," Daryl said as he reached down to grab the top of the shelf he had dropped.

He struggled to lift the shelf up, but didn't dare ask for help. Besides, Martinez only had one useful arm. He wouldn't be very helpful, anyway.  
"Like I was saying," Martinez said after Daryl had managed to get the shelf upright again, "We came into town to get supplies. Once the governor had his back turned, I raised my gun. But he pulled out a knife and tried to stab me before I could pull the trigger. I ran off, and he sent the other two after me."

Daryl grabbed the last shelf and pulled on it, waiting for Martinez to continue talking. When Martinez remained silent, he decided to speak up.

"That's when I came outside?" He asked.

Martinez nodded, so he turned his attention back to the shelf. It was upright, so all he had to do now was push it to the side. Then they could get the hell out of there.

"And your friends just happened to get caught in the middle of it."

"Wait," Daryl replied, "How did you get out of here?"

"What do you mean?"

"This place was surrounded by walkers. How the hell'd ya get out?"

"Got out before that happened," Martinez replied, "But that fuckin' black guy started shooting at me while I was still in the store. As soon as I got out, I ran as fast as I could and hid. Guess the biters surrounded the supermarket after that. When we started shooting back, the walkers were drawn away from the store, and the governor took the opportunity to get the hell out of here."

Daryl chuckled.

"What a pussy."

"Got that right." Martinez agreed.

Daryl finished moving the shelf aside, and stepped over to put his ear against the door. He listened carefully for anything that sounded like scratching or growling, but didn't hear anything like it. After listening for a while, he stepped away from the door and pushed it open, grabbing his basket. Stepping outside, he looked around. There were no walkers nearby, so he turned around and gestured for Martinez to follow.

Martinez wasn't paying attention, though. He was leaning against one of the shelves, grabbing his arm. There was an extremely pained expression on his face. Daryl knew that the man was in pain, and it made him worry about Rick even more. If Martinez was in this much pain just because of a bullet in his arm...

How bad was a bullet in the back?

Martinez looked up to find Daryl giving him a concerned look, and stood up, embarrassed. After he had regained his bearings, he followed Daryl outside, looking around for walkers. Glancing over, he found that Daryl was still looking at him. He still had that sympathetic look on his face, too.

"Stop looking at me like that, man."

Daryl diverted his gaze elsewhere. Without saying anything, he walked off. Martinez followed him, and they walked around the building. Fortunately, most of the walkers had decided to stay in front of the building. There were only a few of them in the alley next to the building, and Daryl had enough arrows left to take care of them.

Immediately after shooting an arrow into all four of them, he made sure to retrieve his arrows, and then continued running down the alley without looking back to see if Martinez had followed. Once he made it to the end of the alley, he peered around the corner of the building to check on the walkers attacking the front doors of the building. He was about to run out and make his way across the street to find Rick and Glenn, but Martinez interrupted him before he could even take a step.

"Wait." He rasped.

Daryl looked back to find him hunched forward, grabbing his arm. He was leaning against the side of the building, breathing heavily. His entire arm was drenched in a crimson color, and the blood had made it all the way down to his hand, dripping off of his fingertips.

Daryl cursed inwardly, ran back to him, and wrapped his arm around his waist so that he could help him walk. Martinez reluctantly allowed him to do so. He didn't like accepting Daryl' s help, but knew that he wouldn't make it across the street without it. Hell, he had lost a lot of blood, and probably wouldn't make it two feet on his own.

"C'mon," Daryl replied.

He started walking, and Martinez did his best to stay in-step with him. He stumbled a few times, but Daryl was strong enough to hold him up. Once they made it to the corner of the building, Daryl looked around again, making sure that all of the walkers were still focused on the front entrance. After doing so, he ran as fast as he could with Martinez leaning on him, and they were lucky enough to make it across the street without any walkers taking notice.

Once on the sidewalk, Daryl let go of Martinez and looked around for any sign of Rick. Martinez leaned up against one of the vehicles in the road and watched as Daryl walked off. The redneck dropped the basket of goods he had been carrying, and leaned down to examine spots of blood on the sidewalk a few feet away. He slid his index finger over the blood and brought his hand up. The blood was still wet, which meant that it was fresh. It easily could have been a walker's, though.

He decided to follow the blood trail, and found that it led into the pharmacy. There was a bloody handprint on the door, and it was also fresh. Rick and Glenn must have taken cover in there.

"Found them," Daryl said.

He walked over to grab his basket of goods, and then made his way back to Martinez, wrapping his arm around the man just as he had before. Helping him into the pharmacy, he looked around for Rick and Glenn. Both of them were in the back of the building, and hadn't noticed him come inside.

"Let me talk to 'em," Daryl said to Martinez as he let go of him, " You just keep yer mouth shut."

Martinez was in no mood to argue, so just nodded in agreement.


	10. Chapter 10

As soon as Beth entered the room, she laid eyes on Daryl. He was sitting at a table away from the crowd of people surrounding Martinez and Rick, and he was covered in blood. Without thinking, she ran over to him and embraced him in a hug.

Daryl tensed up, but relaxed after realizing who it was that had their arms wrapped around him. He looked back at Beth and smiled.

"You're covered in blood," She nervously replied, "Are you okay?"

Daryl shrugged her off and stood up. He turned around to face her and explained that it wasn't his blood.

"Are you okay?" Beth asked, genuinely concerned for his well-being.

"Yeah."

She let out a sigh of relief, and he sat down. He patted the bench, gesturing for her to sit next to him. She did as he asked, making sure that there was plenty of space between them. Ever since she had told Daryl how she felt about him, he had been very distant, and she didn't want to make him angry by getting too close. So she made sure that there was at least a foot of space between them, and kept her hands to herself.

She was surprised, however, when Daryl reached over and took her hand.

"I need ta talk ta you," He said.

"Gimme some space!" Hershel' s voice echoed throughout the area.

Beth and Daryl glanced over at the crowd around Rick and Martinez. They watched as a few people walked away, and then Hershel demanded that everybody leave so he could focus better. The entire crowd dispersed, and everybody went their separate ways. Now it was just Carol and Hershel left, and they were both busy doctoring.

After a few minutes of silence, Daryl returned his attention to Beth. Once she had regained focus on him, he continued where he had left off before Hershel' s interruption.

"I shouldn'ta got angry at you last week," He said,"When you told me..."

He furrowed his brows, searching for the right words to say, and Beth continued to just stare at him, curiously wondering what it was that he was getting at. She was pretty sure that she knew, already, but didn't want to make any hasty assumptions.

"I like you, too." Daryl admitted.

Beth tightened her grip on his hand and smiled. It felt great to hear those words come out of his mouth.

"Thing is," Daryl continued, "I...I didn't know till earlier."

"What made you...?" Beth asked.

"A walker."

Beth raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.

"Y'know...one of them bastards almost took a chunk outta me earlier, but I was lucky enough to have Martinez shoot the motherfucker before it got the chance."

"What?" Beth asked, worried about him.

Daryl chuckled, waving it off.

"Don' matter. Point is," He explained, "Is that when it came at me, I thought I was good as dead. And all I could think about was you."

He smiled down at Beth, and she smiled back. She scoot closer to him so that they were against each other,and raised her hand to wipe some of the blood off of his face. Daryl reflexively flinched away.

Beth frowned, dropping her hand.

"I was just-"

"I know," Daryl shamefully interrupted, "Just habit."

"Sorry," Beth replied, even though she had no reason to apologize.

"I'm gonna go check on Rick," He deflected.

Beth nodded, watching as he stood up and walked away without saying anything. He walked over to the table where Hershel and Carol were caring for Rick and Martinez.

"Can I help you?" Hershel asked. He sounded a bit annoyed.

"Naw. Jus' wanna see how it's goin'."

"Well," Hershel kept his focus on Rick's wound while he spoke, " I'm pretty sure the bullet ain't fragmented in Rick, so it should be relatively easy to get out."

Daryl nodded.

"As for the fellow over there," Hershel said as he glanced over at Carol and Martinez on the other side of the table, "Bullet went clear through. Luckily, it didn't hit any bone, but he'll have some muscle damage. It will heal... over time."

Daryl simply nodded again, and then turned to leave.

"Wait a minute, Daryl."

Daryl turned around to face Hershel again. The old man turned his attention away from Rick so that he could look up at him. He just stared at him for a moment, as if he were studying; trying to decipher what he was thinking about. And then he turned his attention back to Rick's wound.

"I'll talk with you later," He said at last.

There was another moment of silence as Daryl wondered what he wanted to talk about, and then Daryl agreed to talk to him later. Hershel nodded, and he walked off to occupy himself until then. He made his way upstairs and into his cell, where he placed his crossbow down and took off his leather jacket. After slipping his boots off, he turned around to walk out, and almost ran into Beth.

"Jesus," He replied, "Where the hell did you come from?"

"Sorry, I just... never got to give you this."

Daryl raised an eyebrow curiously, and she stood on the tip of her toes, leaning in to plant a gentle kiss on his lips. She stepped back and Daryl smiled, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand.

"Thanks," He sheepishly replied.

"Whatcha doin'?" Beth asked.

"Uh...about ta go take myself a shower. Why?"

"Just wondered," She replied. Her cheeks turned slightly red at the thought of him naked in one of the prison showers.

"Okay. Seeya then," Daryl bluntly replied.

Beth nodded, and he walked around her to leave. She followed him outside, but they parted ways on the catwalk. Daryl walked down the metal platform and turned to go down the stairs attached, while Beth decided to make her way down to her own cell. She was surprised to find Maggie inside.

"Hey, Beth."

Beth just stared at her for a minute, and then she smiled. She sat next to her older sister on the bottom cot.

"How are you?" Maggie asked.

Beth shrugged.

"I'm alright, I guess."

"Really?"

Beth thought about it, and then nodded her head.

"Yeah," She said, "I'm actually doing pretty good."

"That's good. Y'know... I was just a little curious about something."

Beth cocked her head to the side and raised an eyebrow curiously. Maggie glanced over at the metal cell door leaning against the wall, and Beth laughed.

"So," Maggie said with a hint of amusement, "What's that about?"

"Oh, nothing. Daryl took it off for me."

"Why?" Maggie asked, clearly confused.

Beth bit her lip.

"You'll think it's dumb." She replied.

"No, I won't. C'mon, I'm your sister. You can tell me anything."

Beth took a deep breath and explained her irrational fear of the door closing on her while she sleeps. When she was finished, she looked over at Maggie to see how she would react.

"And Daryl took it off for you?" She asked.

Beth nodded.

"Huh. Didn't think the guy had a nice bone in his body." Maggie replied.

"He isn't that bad," The young blonde replied, "He's actually really nice, when you get to know him."

Maggie raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

"Oh? I doubt it."

"Really," Beth urged, " You just gotta give him some time."

"Whatever you say. How would you know, anyway? You two friends now?"

Something like that...

"Sorta," Beth said. She didn't really wanna lie to her sister, so decided to keep the answer vague.

"Oh. Well that's news to me. Well," Maggie yawned, " I just wanted to check up on you. Make sure everything is okay. I think I'm gonna get to bed, now. If ya don't mind."

Beth nodded, and her older sister stood up to leave. She walked out of the cell, disappearing. Beth listened to her footsteps until she couldn't hear them anymore, and then let out a sigh. Taking her shoes off, she laid down, deciding to get some sleep herself.


	11. Chapter 11

The young blonde girl slept rather well that night, getting a good six hours of sleep. She woke up at five in the morning, and seemed to be the only person awake other than Daryl. It was a bit odd. After all, he always seemed to be awake really early in the mornings. Beth wasn't even sure he actually slept.

Either way, the two of them were usually alone together for a while. It was nice, because Daryl was extremely cautious around other people. He'd usually ignore the Beth unless they were alone. Beth hated it, but understood that it was for the best. To have Rick or Hershel find out about their relationship wouldn't be good. They'd have to tell everyone eventually, but it would be better to wait until Beth was at least a little older.

So the young blonde quietly made her way down the metal catwalk and then climbed down the stairs. She met Daryl at the same table he'd usually sit at, quietly coming up from behind to surprise him with a hug.

He tensed up for a moment, but relaxed as soon as realizing who it was who had ambushed him with such a carefree embrace. He even smiled as she sat down next to him.

"What's up, sugar?"

Beth giggled.

"Not much," She replied as he wrapped a beefy arm around her. He gave her a peck on the cheek.

"In a good mood today?" Beth asked.

Daryl put down the book he had been reading and Beth glanced down to see that it was the raggedy old book that Dale had given him. Before she could say anything about it, Daryl grabbed her by the chin and placed a kiss directly on her lips. He lingered there a moment, and then released her.

"Just thought it was 'bout time I did that," He said.

Beth just smiled, her face turning red as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"I see ya slept well," Daryl replied as he shifted in his seat.

"Huh?"

"I checked in on ya this mornin'. You were sleepin' like a baby. Does having the door off help?"

Beth nodded.

"Yeah," She quietly replied.

"Good."

"Daryl?"

"What?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"I guess."

"You know how you go huntin' all the time?"

"...Yeah."

"Could I...Do ya think I could go with you some time?"

Daryl grabbed his book and stood up, furrowing his brow. He tucked the book into his back pocket.

"Absolutely not."

"Why not," Beth asked, standing up in an attempt to hold her ground. She crossed her arms and frowned, demanding that he give her a reasonable explanation immediately.

"It's dangerous out there. Ain't no place for little girls."

"I'm not a little girl! I'm seventeen, Daryl, and I deserve to help out around here."

"You're helpful enough, " He retorted.

"How so?"

Daryl just stared at her for a while.

"Ya tryin' ta pick a fight, girl? I was bein' nice..."

"First of all, stop calling me "girl". It's really impersonal, and quite rude."

Daryl glared at her,letting out a huff before sitting back down.

"I said no," He replied. He then opened his book and continued reading.

"This isn't fair. All I asked was to go huntin' with you."

"And I said no. Don't make me say it again."

Daryl looked up to find her crossing her arms over her chest. She was glaring at him through squinted eyes, but wasn't a bit intimidating.

"You can't just say no. I deserve at least a chance."

"How 'bout no?"

"How 'bout yes?"

"No."

"Yes."

"I said no!" Daryl. Exclaimed quietly, closing his book and firmly hitting it on the tabletop.

"Y'all ain't got no reason ta go huntin'. Just stay here and work like a woman's s'posed to."

Daryl knew he shouldn't have said that, but didn't have time to apologize before Beth began walking off. He called after her, but she just ignored him.

"Dammit," He said to himself as he stood up to follow her, "Why ya gotta be such an idiot, Daryl?"

The young blonde was fast. It was easy for her to get away, but Daryl knew exactly where to look. Whenever Beth was mad or upset about something, she'd run off. She'd always go straight to one of the watch towers and hide there for a few hours until discovered, or deciding that it was time to inform everyone that she was still alive.

Daryl found her sitting at the top of a watch tower. She had her head rested on one of the rails, and her feet dangling over the edge.

"Hey," Daryl called, making his way out to sit next to her. He crossed his legs Indian style and leaned back, letting out a glanced back at him, but didn't say anything. She quickly returned her attention towards the morning sky and started searching for any recognizable constellations. The sun was starting to rise, but the sky was still relatively dark.

"I didn't mean it," Daryl said.

"Yes you did."

" I shouldn'ta."

"But you did."

"C'mon," Daryl begged, "ain't nobody perfect."

"You think I'm weak."

Daryl sat up.

"Beth..."

"It's hard, y'know? Having everyone ignore me cause they think I'm weak. I'm quiet, so I must be fragile. I hate it."

Daryl was silent for a while, then he scoot forward and mimicked the way that Beth was sitting. After mulling it over for a good fifteen minutes, he finally gave in.

"Ask yer old man. If he says it's fine, then I'll take ya out some time."

Beth's expression lit up immediately.

"Really?" She asked, the anticipation clear in her voice.

Daryl rolled his eyes and grumbled something under his breath, then nodded his head.

"Guess so. But you cause me any damn trouble, I swear..."

Beth scoot closer to him and wrapped her arm around his waist, giving him a gentle kiss on the cheek. His lips involuntarily curled up at the corners, and Beth smiled back. Her smile grew even wider as he reached over and took her free hand in his own. He entwined his fingers within hers and she leaned her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes as she let out a sigh.

"I won't. I promise," She whispered.

"I just don't want ya ta get hurt…"

Hey Guys! Sorry it took me so long. I've had really bad writer's block lately, but the season premiere coming up has managed to get me back in the mood for this! So…I'll try my best to get them up as often as possible, but no guarantees. Hope you enjoy so far!


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